


Devotion

by SiderealMessenger



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Justin was a double agent, M/M, elements from the manga & anime, headcanons to the left of them, headcanons to the right of them, or triple agent technically?, set after the manga, taking a cannon to canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-28
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2018-12-20 18:33:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 38,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11926776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SiderealMessenger/pseuds/SiderealMessenger
Summary: As the new Lord Death, Death the Kid needs a Death Scythe. As the dreadfully busy new headmaster of the DWMA, he's been putting it off. Since Liz and Patti can't become Death Scythes as long as the academy's alliance with the witches holds, Professor Stein suggests Justin Law as a potential partner. Things are a little awkward between the pair since Justin's part in Kid's abduction and torture at the hands of Noah and his agents — even if Justin was working for Kid's father the whole time. But with a mad, soul-devouring witch leaving a trail of bodies across Europe, they're the DWMA's best hope of stopping her before the world has another kishin on its hands.





	1. The Right Tool for the Job

**Author's Note:**

> There's virtually nothing written about this pair, and it's one of my favorites, so I figured I'd toss something into the void. I'm not taking this too seriously – it's just a bit of fun. Hope you enjoy!  
> This fic has a playlist – you can listen here: https://8tracks.com/empirate/damocles
> 
> Canonically at the end of the manga, Justin is 18 and Kid is 15. My fic is set 8 months later, so Kid is 16 and Justin's still 18. I'm not totally sure about the rating, so I made it T just to be safe.

Death the Kid walked alone down the long corridor of guillotine archways leading to the dais in the center of the Death Room, wondering not for the first time why his father had thought it was a good idea to welcome his visitors with dozens of blades hanging over their heads. But his father was no longer there to answer such questions. Officially, Kid was the new Lord Death, headmaster of the DWMA, defender of Death City and the one responsible for maintaining the balance of order and chaos in the world. However, the threat posed by Asura had forced Kid to take up his father’s mantle far earlier than his father had intended, and Kid still felt very much like, well…a kid. His father’s responsibilities weighed heavily on his shoulders, and he still wasn’t certain he was ready to handle them. Luckily, he was surrounded by people he could rely on to help him – the professors, his friends, his allies. 

Kid looked up at one of the sharp blades suspended above him. Perhaps he could bring himself to redecorate the Death Room in few years or so. He suspected the ominous sentiment was carried over from the old days when his father hadn't tried in the slightest to be unintimidating. Kid had never known that side of his father, but occasionally, the Grim Reaper’s metaphorical mask had slipped, and a little of the old Death had shown through. It was those moments when Kid had wondered what his father was truly capable of. The old shinigami had shrouded himself in legend like a second cloak, and even Kid never knew the full extent of what was true, and what was embellished. Now, Kid wondered what he himself was capable of.

When he reached the dais, he found Professor Stein waiting for him. “Professor,” he said, surprised. “How long have you been waiting here?” 

“Not long,” Stein replied, taking a leisurely puff of his cigarette before stubbing it out on his sleeve and dropping the stub into his lab coat pocket. 

“You should have summoned me,” Kid said, indicating his father’s gilded mirror. He wasn’t bound to it as his father had been, but he could use it in all of the same ways. “I didn’t know you were here.” 

“It’s not an urgent matter,” Stein insisted. “I have something I want to discuss with you.” 

“What is it?” 

“We both know that the threat of another kishin being born is a very real and present one,” Stein said, and Kid’s eyes narrowed in immediate focus. He gave Stein a nod of agreement. “You’ve done an excellent job so far of preparing the academy for that threat,” Stein continued. “But, if I may be so bold, you have done little to prepare yourself.” 

Kid frowned. “Me? The students are far more vulnerable than I am. Surely, concentrating my efforts on them rather than myself is the best course of action right now?” Damn, he still found it difficult to make assertions with his old professors, rather than having everything come out as a question. He was still so inexperienced. 

“To a point,” Stein agreed. “But you are also our last line of defence. If it comes down to that, you will need access to the full extent of your power.”

“All of my father’s power transferred to me upon his death,” Kid said calmly. “I already have access to it.”

Stein shook his head. “Not all of it. Not without a Death Scythe.”

Oh. Of course, Kid knew that. Shinigami or not, any meister and weapon pair were much stronger together than separately. And, until Kid had closed down the Death Scythe program, Death Scythes had been made as ideal weapon partners for reapers. He had known he would need to partner with one eventually. “But Liz and Patti…”

“Are excellent partners for you, and will remain your personal weapons for as long as the three of you wish,” Stein said. “But they will never be Death Scythes for as long as we maintain our alliance with the witches, and if you should ever need to fight a kishin without an army behind you, you’ll need a Death Scythe. It’s a simple matter of having the right tool for the job.” 

“I take your point,” Kid said. “Do you have someone in mind?”

“I’ve already evaluated your options. Most of the Death Scythes have returned to their outposts across the globe, but we need only consider a few candidates, since scythe-type weapons are the most compatible with a shinigami's natural abilities. Of course, Spirit was your father’s weapon, but I can tell just by looking at your souls that the two of you would not be a good match. He’s far too erratic for you, and you’ve formed a lot of negative opinions of him because of your friendship with Maka.” Kid didn’t bother to argue that point. “Besides, with Marie having accepted a full-time teaching position here at the academy, and our baby coming soon, she’s going to be very busy, so Spirit will be my partner again for awhile. He’ll be here in Death City should you need him in a crisis, but you have two better options.

“Soul Eater is one. I expect the two of you would be highly compatible, given your close friendship and teamwork. But he is as inexperienced as a Death Scythe as you are as a full-fledged shinigami, and he already has a very close partnership with Maka. It would be disadvantageous to us to split them up, and doing so might damage your relationship with them.” Stein was right on that point as well. Kid couldn’t stomach the thought of tearing two of his closest friends apart, even if their sense of duty was strong enough that they might let him do it. “Luckily, we have another Death Scythe who has no meister. He never has.”

“Justin Law,” Kid said ponderously. “The guillotine.” 

“He’s technically a scythe-type weapon, and he’s still here at the DWMA.”

Kid had seen Justin around the academy a couple of times since he’d taken over as headmaster, but the young Death Scythe seemed to be making himself scarce for some reason. As busy as he was, Kid hadn’t had the time to look into it. “Why hasn’t he returned to his outpost in Europe?”

“He’s been dealing with what you might call a crisis of faith,” Stein said. “He still feels responsible for what you suffered at the hands of Noah and his agents.” 

“He was acting as a spy under my father’s orders. Once that was made clear to me, I thought I’d made it clear to him that I forgave him for his role in that debacle. I apologized for shooting him.”

“Perhaps this will be a good opportunity for the two of you to reconcile,” Stein suggested. “As potential partners, his personality seems a good match for yours.” 

Kid grimaced at that. “You think so?” 

“He’s dedicated to the same ideals you are. He may come off as a little uptight, but then again, some would say the same about you.” 

Kid glared at his former professor. “You realize I sign your paycheques now, right?”  

Stein chuckled in a rather sinister fashion. “My inventions provide me with an independent source of income, so you can always rely on me for candid advice. I’m just saying that first impressions aren’t always accurate, once you get to know a person. My greatest concern with Justin would be that, because of his reverence for you, he’d indulge your obsessive tendencies in a way that the Thompson sisters never have. He has his own obsessions, after all.”

“Yeah, me,” Kid said with a roll of his golden eyes. 

“You’re a god.” Stein shrugged. “Devotees come with the territory. At least you know he’ll follow your lead and give you everything he’s got. If I’m wrong, and the two of you aren’t a good match, then we can look into other candidates. Even non-scythe-type Death Scythes would be better than none. Azusa might be a good fit.”

Kid shivered involuntarily. He greatly admired Azusa’s tactical mind and organizational skills, but even his father had been a little afraid of her, and Kid certainly was. Her death glare outmatched even a shinigami’s. He sighed. “I’ll meet with Justin tomorrow and we’ll see where things go from there. Thank you, Professor. I’m not sure I could do all this without your help, and the support of the DWMA.” 

Stein gave him a rare, warm smile. “We’re all behind you, Lord Death.” 

As Stein left, Kid turned toward his father’s mirror. All he saw was his own reflection – a child wrapped in his father’s cloak. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the mirror’s surface, his breath too cold to fog up the glass. “Please guide my steps, father,” he whispered, the plea having become something of a mantra over the past months. Everyone was counting on him to lead. He couldn’t let them down.   

xxx

Kid returned to Gallows Manor late that evening to find Liz and Patti curled up on the sofa in their pajamas watching a movie. It was what they did when they were waiting up for him but didn’t want to be obvious about it. Kid had never mentioned that he’d caught on. Usually the sight made him smile, no matter how gruelling his day had been, but this time it sent an uncomfortable little pang through his chest. He didn’t want another partner. He had the perfect partners already. 

The sisters looked up at him when he entered the room and sat down between them on the sofa. “Hey, Kid,” Liz said, offering him half of her blanket while Patti clutched hers more tightly around her. Liz was by far the more diplomatic of the two; Patti was hard pressed to share anything except chores. “Why so grim?”

Patti giggled. “He’s the Grim Reaper, Sis.” Liz rolled her eyes.

“I need to learn to wield a Death Scythe,” Kid said. Immediately, he had Liz and Patti’s full attention, the movie forgotten as they gave him almost identical wary looks from either side. “You’ll still be my partners,” he reassured them, “but I’ll have a new partner soon.”

“Who?” Liz asked. 

“Soul?” Patti asked hopefully.

“No,” Kid replied. 

“Ugh, tell me it’s not Maka’s dad,” Liz said. “That creep is _not_ moving in with us.”

Kid shook his head. “Professor Stein thinks Justin Law will be the best match.”

Both sisters blinked at him in surprise. “The guy who kidnapped and tortured you?” Liz finally said. 

“In his defense, he didn’t do any of the actual kidnapping and torturing,” Kid said. “He just couldn’t intervene or he’d have blown his cover. He had orders to get me out if I were in serious danger, but those goons didn't dish out anything I couldn't handle.”

“I still wouldn’t mind shooting him again,” Liz grumbled. 

“He has pretty screams,” Patti agreed.

Kid scrubbed at his eyes in exhaustion. Sometimes Liz and Patti could be a little _too_ protective of him. “We can't shoot him again,” Kid said. “I think we might have hurt his feelings last time.”

“Boo hoo,” said Liz. 

“I don't like this any more than you do, but we're just going to have to make it work,” Kid said. “Stein’s right. I need a Death Scythe, just in case. And Justin more than proved himself in the battle against Asura. His loyalty isn’t in question.”

The demon pistols pouted, but were willing to give the new arrangement a try, at least for the time being. Kid supposed it was the most he could ask for. He wished the girls goodnight and went upstairs to get ready for bed. He had an interesting day ahead of him tomorrow.  


	2. Resonance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: The art in this chapter is mostly for visual reference. Justin's scythe form is my design, but for scale, Kid is edited from jennychoi's original on DeviantArt.

Stein and Spirit brought Justin to the Death Room the next morning. The guillotine Death Scythe only met Kid’s eyes briefly with a wide-eyed stare before he dropped to his knees at Kid’s feet, head bowed. “Oh Lord Death, merciful and vengeful, if my trespasses are too heinous to deserve your divine forgiveness, then I accept my punishment, however harsh you deem fit. I have ever striven to be your loyal servant until the end, even if my end be here and now.” 

Kid looked to Stein in alarm, knowing that Justin wouldn’t be able to hear him with his music blaring and his eyes studiously fixed on the floor. “What on earth did you tell him this meeting was about?” 

Stein had watched the scene unfold with scientific curiosity. “I didn’t mention the subject. I suppose he came to his own conclusions.”

“Great,” Kid muttered into his hand. He looked back up at Stein. “Do you think I’m vengeful?”

To Kid’s annoyance, Stein took a moment to ponder the question. “Well, you did virtually smite Noah off the face of the earth,” he said. 

“Well, this whole thing is off to a great start,” Kid reiterated with a growl. He returned his gaze to Justin, whose shoulders were tense beneath his clerical vestments. “Justin,” Kid said. Then, louder, “ _Justin!_ ”

When the teenage Death Scythe still showed no indication of having heard, Spirit marched up behind him and kicked him in the back of the head, causing his earphones to clatter to the floor. “Your god’s talking,” Spirit said. 

Still on his knees, Justin looked up and met Kid’s eyes once more. “What is your command, my Lord?”

With great effort, Kid stopped himself from growling again. “Stand up, for death’s sake! You’re not here to be punished. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

Justin quickly got to his feet, though he looked no less like a gazelle caught in the gaze of a leopard. “I…I don’t understand.”

“I would like you to be my partner,” Kid said, in a tone he hoped would put the other man at ease somewhat. “As a shinigami, I need a Death Scythe by my side. You are the best the DWMA has to offer.” 

If possible, Justin looked even more frightened than before. “But I am not worthy of such an honor!” he protested.  

“You became a Death Scythe at thirteen, and you did it all on your own, without a meister. Your skill is unparalleled. I believe you are worthy.” Kid played the god card, then, just to move things along. “Do you question my judgment?”

“N-no, my Lord!” Justin exclaimed. “But…I let your enemies harm you,” he said more quietly, breaking eye contact again.  

Kid scoffed. “They didn’t do a very good job of it. Give me some credit, hm?” 

Justin returned his gaze guardedly. “Then, you really do forgive me?” Kid nodded, trying for a reassuring smile. To his dismay, Justin looked as though he might cry. “You are merciful indeed, my Lord.” 

“Do you accept my offer?” Kid was growing impatient, but trying his best not to show it, lest he lose all the progress he had made. 

“I will do whatever my Lord wishes of me,” Justin replied firmly. “I serve Death until Death claims me.”

“Excellent,” Kid said, clapping his hands together. “Come with me. We start training today.” Justin followed him dutifully down from the dais and toward the guillotine arches leading out of the Death Room, but Kid stopped in his tracks at the first archway, nearly causing Justin to walk into him. He turned and appraised Justin once more, this time as his new weapon. After careful consideration, he leaned to the side to address the professor. 

“Professor Stein, you don’t suppose I could have two Death Scythes…?”

“No,” Stein said, his glasses flashing threateningly.  

Kid had to spend the rest of the walk out to the woods surrounding the school assuring a watery-eyed Justin that he didn’t actually think the guillotine Death Scythe was inadequate. Kid would just have to forego symmetry in this matter, as much as it pained him. He was better at prioritizing now than he used to be. He had to be.  

Morning classes were still in session, so the woods where meisters and weapons usually practiced were empty. Kid picked a spacious clearing where the two of them hopefully wouldn’t do too much damage. He didn’t know to what degree he would be able to control the raw power of a Death Scythe, at first. 

“You’re accustomed to fighting without a meister, utilizing partial transformations and special abilities,” Kid said, turning to face Justin in the center of the clearing, “but you do have a pure weapon form, correct?” 

“I can take several forms – my weapon class is very versatile,” Justin replied, eager to prove his worth now that he had been disabused of the notion that Kid wanted to smite him. “My fundamental guillotine form isn’t suitable for combat, but I can alter it to become a scythe.” He had replaced his earphones somewhere along the way, the tinny beat of his music drifting faintly through the clearing. This meant that the Death Scythe spent more time watching Kid’s lips than his eyes, which the shinigami found a little disconcerting. 

“May I?” Kid said, holding out his hand. 

Justin bowed his head, and in an arc of blue light, transformed into a long, black scythe with a thin, white cross emblazoned along the length of the shaft on either side. His blade, which was straight and tapered along a diagonal, was obviously a guillotine blade rather than a typical, curved scythe blade. It was set into the underside of a black crossbar, and at the cross was fastened a silver, bladed flourish that would allow the scythe to be used as a lance if necessary. The end of the shaft rested in Kid’s outstretched hand.  

Kid hefted the Death Scythe easily. “What an elegant design,” he murmured to himself. The weapon felt natural in his hands, despite all of his formal training being with firearms. The most experience Kid had had with a scythe until that point, other than the wooden toy his father had given him when he was little, was with a girl his father had picked out as a potential partner for him. Needless to say, as with his father's countless other matchmaking experiments, the two of them hadn't exactly hit it off. Already, he could tell that Justin was different, and it wasn't just because of Justin's greater power and experience. They felt...attuned, somehow. Similar to the feeling Kid had when he first held Liz and Patti, and yet entirely different. 

To Justin, Kid said, “I’d like to start with the basics, if it’s all the same to you. I’ve never really wielded a scythe before.”

“I’ve never fought in this form before,” Justin replied, a weapon’s metallic edge to his voice now, “so I’m afraid I may not be able to offer much guidance.” 

“Maybe Maka and Soul can give us some pointers later,” Kid thought aloud. “I’ve watched them fight enough times that I should be able to replicate most of the motions. Are you ready?” 

“Ready,” Justin said.  

With that, Kid tipped the blade down, using the momentum to spin the scythe in his hands faster and faster in front of him, then above his head, then in sweeping arcs around to the side. He kept his footwork simple, focusing on spinning and slashing with the scythe, crescendoing his attacks until he finally dropped into a crouch, bringing the scythe to a standstill after swiping the blade out in a wide arc around him. Over the sound of his own even breathing, he heard a quiet splintering, then a loud crack, and an even louder crash. Kid whipped around to see that an old tree had toppled over behind him, sliced clean through the trunk. 

Kid gaped, inadvertently dropping the Death Scythe. “I…didn’t mean to do that.” The new irregularity in the landscape was already starting to annoy him, so he forced himself to look away. “I didn’t even feel any resistance.”

“My blade is extremely sharp. For painless executions,” Justin said sheepishly. Kid snapped out of his daze and hurriedly picked the Death Scythe up off the ground. He remembered that Justin was a weapon whose purpose was never to wound, but to kill with one stroke. Curiously, and because reverse psychology worked on him as well as anyone, Kid reached out to run a finger along the edge of the guillotine blade. A line of crimson appeared starkly against his pale skin, but he hardly felt a thing. Justin made an inarticulate noise of distress before he managed to find words. “Why did you touch it?!” 

“I’m fine,” Kid assured him, sucking the blood from his finger. “How are you feeling?”

“A little dizzy,” Justin admitted after a moment, “but I’m sure I’ll get used to being handled.”  Kid got the feeling that the word Justin really meant was 'manhandled'. For a weapon used to more or less being his own meister, it must feel strange to have someone else calling the shots. 

“Let’s try Soul Resonance,” Kid said. At his word, he felt tremendous power flood into his soul, and his mind went temporarily blank just trying to process it. When he returned to awareness a moment later, a wind had whipped up around them in the clearing, and the birds were fleeing the surrounding treetops. Power hummed beneath Kid’s skin – he felt giddy with it. But Justin's focus was absolute, keeping Kid grounded amidst the feedback.  _“Can you hear me, Justin?”_ he thought. 

_“Loud and clear!”_ Justin replied, his metallic voice echoing in Kid’s mind. 

Kid could hear something else as well. A bass beat, and percussion. _“Is that your music playing through the resonance link?”_

_“Oh, sorry! I can make it stop.”_  

_“No, leave it_ ,” Kid thought. _“You use it to time your attacks, don’t you? I can work with that. Believe it or not, I’m used to resonating with music.”_

_“Alright,”_ Justin replied, and Kid thought he could hear a smile in the Death Scythe’s voice. _“Resonance is stable.”_

_“Let’s try that radiate blade attack of yours.”_

_“You’ll need to flip me around so my blade faces outward, parallel to the ground.”_ Kid did so, positioning the Death Scythe’s crossbar close across his chest and bracing the shaft along the length of his extended left arm. Kid startled slightly when lunettes appeared along the shaft and locked his arm in place. _“To help you brace,_ ” Justin explained.  _"The kickback is strong."_

_“Good thinking. Alright, Justin. Let’s see what you’ve got.”_ Kid grinned.

_“Execution Gun,”_ they uttered in unison. A cutting ray of white light shot from Justin’s blade, so bright Kid had to close his eyes, and so powerful Kid had to dig his heels into the dirt to keep his footing. When the light subsided, Kid opened his eyes to take in a beautiful view of Death City sprawling out below that hadn’t been visible before. In front of him, a wide corridor of trees had been felled, and beyond that, all of the weathervanes had been sheared from the rooftops of the buildings below. At least the tree they’d cut down earlier didn’t look so out of place anymore…  

Kid stared at the destruction in shock and once more lost his grip on the Death Scythe as the lunettes unlocked and meister and weapon fell out of resonance. This time, however, Justin reverted to his human form before he hit the ground, landing in a crouch. Slowly, he stood, brushing off his robes and looking equally stricken. “Well, that's new,” he said quietly.

“Shit, Father’s going to kill me,” Kid said, before he remembered that no, he wasn’t. Justin gave him a sympathetic look out of the corner of his eye as Kid’s face fell. “I think we’ve done enough for today. I'll find us somewhere more remote to practice tomorrow,” Kid continued, ignoring his earlier remark. He forced a smile. “How do you feel about working with a meister?”

“It is a great honor to be able to fulfil my true purpose as a Death Scythe, my Lord,” Justin said, averting his eyes in deference. 

Kid sighed. “We’re partners now, Justin. Please, call me Kid. That’s what my friends call me.”

Justin gave Kid a startled look and was speechless for a long moment before he finally managed a faint, “I’ll try.” He looked back out over the city, his hands clasped behind his back as he spoke. “In all honesty, I didn’t complete the Death Scythe program without a meister because I didn’t _want_ one. I wanted one desperately. But I wasn’t compatible with any of my classmates. So I decided I would do it alone.” 

“Not compatible with anyone?” Kid frowned. “But we resonated easily.”  

Justin just gave him a good-natured shrug. “Dr. Stein examined me and found that I have a rare condition. I was relieved to hear it, actually. You see, soon after I had begun collecting souls at the academy, I started hearing voices in my head. I thought I was going mad, but it turned out I was experiencing a rare side effect of soul consumption. I could hear the voices of all of the souls I had taken. Stein suggested that I find a way to drown them out while he worked to develop some sort of suppressant, so I bought an MP3 player. Stein still hasn’t managed to come up with an effective treatment, but the music cleared my mind, and helped me improve my fighting technique as well. As long as I’ve got music to distract me, it’s really not so bad. But the echoes of all those souls made Soul Resonance difficult. You’re the first meister with whom I’ve achieved a stable resonance.”  

Kid considered all that Justin had told him, feeling slightly guilty for his past irritation with Justin’s antics. Of course the Death Scythe would be drawn to the order that the death gods and their priesthood provided, with that kind of chaos inside him. “Perhaps I didn’t notice the interference because I’m used to hearing souls,” Kid mused. “As a shinigami, my Soul Perception is different. It’s not something I can disengage like other meisters do – it’s a fundamental part of how I perceive the world. I see and hear souls all the time. I wonder if Professor Stein guessed that our differences would compliment each other in this way.”  

Justin was giving him a curious look, like he was seeing Kid for the first time. Not as a god, but as a partner. Given the rarity of Justin’s condition, Kid guessed he was one of only a few people in the world who could understand the Death Scythe’s experience. He was surprised by the sudden conviction that this partnership was going to work. 

“You’ve been living at the academy recently, haven’t you?” Kid asked.  

Justin nodded. “I’ve been tutoring first year weapons to help them gain control of their transformations.” 

Kid smiled. “Your students say great things about you. It sounds like the work suits you.” 

“As a weapon whose purpose is to harm, I am grateful for opportunities to help,” Justin said, his head bowed humbly. 

“I understand,” Kid said. “Most people who don’t know me are afraid of me. Sometimes I even manage to scare people who _do_ know me.” He elbowed Justin gently in the side, and the Death Scythe blushed. “But I only want to help humanity.”

“That’s what I try to tell people,” Justin said, frowning. “But outside of Death City, it’s a difficult message to sell.”

“Well, I appreciate your efforts. But one of the first lessons I learned here at the DWMA was that humans are very stubborn. They insist on forming their own opinions,” Kid said fondly, thinking of his friends and how steadfast each of them was in their convictions. “Anyway, the reason I ask about your living situation is that I’d like you to consider moving into Gallows Manor with me and the Thompson sisters. We have plenty of room, and it will help us all get to know each other better.”

“B-but my Lord, I—“ Justin stuttered before Kid cut him off.  

“If you say you’re not worthy one more time, you really will be asking for a smiting.” He gave Justin another reassuring smile. “And I told you to call me Kid. Of course, I don’t want you to do anything because you think it’s what I want you to do. For now, just consider my offer. And so you can see what you’d be getting yourself into, I’d like to invite you over for dinner at my place at eight tonight. The Thompson sisters will be there of course, as will Maka and Soul, Black Star and Tsubaki, and Crona. We all try to get together at least twice a week, and it’s my turn to host. If you can survive dinner with that bunch, you’ll be able to handle just about anything I could possibly throw at you.” 

Justin thought over Kid’s invitation carefully before asking, “Will it be a test?”

Kid chuckled quietly. “Only of your tolerance for idiocy. So, should I expect you?” 

Justin gave a single, determined nod. “I'll be there…Kid.” When he raised his eyes to meet Kid's once more, he was smiling. 


	3. Crash Course

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized AO3 cut off part of chapter one after I posted it, so if you read that more than a week ago, there's more to it now.

Despite Liz’s frequent gibes about Kid being a spoiled brat, Gallows Manor had no servants. Kid was entirely self-sufficient, and he fancied himself a pretty good cook. He enjoyed cooking, especially for his friends, so his spirits were high as he and the Thompson sisters worked together in the kitchen, preparing the evening’s meal before their guests arrived. Much of Liz’s efforts were spent supervising Patti, which meant that Kid would end up doing most of the work, as usual. But given his perfectionist tendencies, that was probably for the best. 

He was still minding pans on the stove when Blair sauntered in through the open front door, her nose turned up to sniff the air and her tail swishing happily. She was never actually invited to their gatherings, but she had a keen nose for free food. “Smells good,” she purred, padding forward to curl around his leg. “What’s cookin, good lookin?”

He carefully nudged her away with his foot, muttering about cat hair on his trousers. “I don’t see how that information would be relevant to you. Since you didn’t RSVP, you can’t be expecting any food.”

She pouted up at him, yellow eyes pleading with gold. “Come on, Kid. You know Soul and Maka never tell me about these things.”

“Have you ever asked yourself why that is?” Kid said. But Blair only meowed pitifully, and Kid’s cold, reaper heart finally melted. “Fine, you can have leftovers if there are any.” 

She perked right up at that, licking her lips and looking pleased with herself. “You’re the best, Kid!” she called, before slinking off into the dining room. 

Kid sighed, transferring the contents of the pots and pans onto serving platters and carefully arranging the food into symmetrical presentations. The evening’s menu consisted of pan-seared trout in a lemon butter sauce, angel hair pasta with shaved black truffle, a grilled peach and kale salad, and mini chive and gruyere soufflés. For dessert, Liz and Patti had made a stone fruit galette. 

“Wow, Kid. I think you’ve outdone yourself,” Liz said as she and Patti helped Kid carry the dishes out to the dining room table. “Are you trying to impress that jerk, now?”

Kid thought it was safe to assume that ‘that jerk’ was Justin. “That would be wasted effort, considering Justin already worships me. I don’t see how his opinion of me could be any higher.” Patti giggled, but Liz remained suspicious. “And he’s actually a nice person,” Kid said.

Liz raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “You realize the definition of ‘nice’ isn’t ‘he didn’t technically torture me’, right?”

“Of course,” Kid said. “But I also happen to believe that a rocky start with someone is in no way indicative of the future. After all, when we first met, you and Patti held me up at gunpoint. When I first met Black Star and Soul, they tried to beat me up. Crona tried to kill me, Blair tried to molest me, Dr. Stein had to be told by my father multiple times that he wasn’t allowed to vivisect me. Compared to most of the people in my life, I think not torturing me puts Justin off to a pretty good start.”

This pattern of terrible first impressions, which was quite obvious to Kid, seemed to have only just dawned on Liz, because she dropped her face into her hands and muttered, “Oh god, we’re all horrible people.” She then gave Kid a lung-collapsing hug, which Patti joined in enthusiastically. “How do you still have so much faith in humanity?” Kid just gasped, unable to draw enough air to form a response. The sisters released him quickly, Liz looking even guiltier than before. “I guess we’ll just have to give the jerk a second chance, won’t we, Patti?” 

“Right, Sis! And if he blows it, we blow his head off. Hehe!”

Kid sighed. “I suppose that’s fair.” 

Justin arrived precisely at eight o’clock, which only made Kid like him more. He had swapped out his usual long coat for a black suit jacket with a white, high-collared shirt beneath. He greeted them all politely, if a little warily when it came to the Thompson sisters. “Thank you for the invitation. I wasn’t sure what to bring, so one of my students suggested I make red velvet cupcakes.” He held out a plate of baked treats for inspection, each deep red cupcake frosted smoothly with cream cheese frosting and topped with a little candy skull. “I hope I got the recipe right." 

“Those look yummy!” Patti said, her sparkling eyes wide. “Can I have one?” Somehow, she managed to make the innocent question sound like a threat should Justin refuse.

“Not yet, you’ll spoil your dinner,” Kid said firmly. Patti pouted, but backed off. “I’ve heard of these,” Kid said to Justin, accepting the plate of cupcakes. “They’re very popular at the school. What makes them so red?” 

“Well in this case, the blood of my Lord’s enemies,” Justin replied with a smile. 

Liz burst into a sudden coughing fit, and Patti thumped her back hard, making her sister cough even more. Kid just stared at Justin blankly, his mouth open on a response that wouldn’t come, because he had no idea how to respond to that. 

“That was a joke,” Justin clarified. “I do have a sense of humor, despite popular opinion to the contrary.”

Patti began to laugh hysterically while Liz and Kid recovered from their panic. “I like him!” Patti announced. 

“What’s so funny?” Maka asked from the doorway. Soul and Crona were with her. All three of them had dressed up as well, Soul in his sleek pinstriped suit and red tie, Maka in a diaphanous black dress with her hair in ringlets, and Crona in a pristine white suit. Kid had never imposed a formal dress code for dinners at his house, but it was an unspoken agreement among his friends that parties at Gallows Manor were excuses to dress up. Black Star was the exception – he rarely even bothered to try, much to Tsubaki’s despair.  

“He is!” said Patti, pointing at Justin.  

Maka’s eyes narrowed at the Death Scythe. “I didn’t think putting me in a coffin and pretending you couldn’t hear me was all that funny.” Beside her, Soul and Crona snickered. They apparently disagreed. Maka stomped on Soul’s foot and shot Crona a glare. “Why did you even have a coffin with you that day, anyway?”

“If you’re going to kill someone, it’s respectful to give them a proper burial afterward,” Justin said, as though the answer was obvious. 

“I wasn’t dead!” Maka growled. 

Justin bowed his head humbly, but by the tone of his voice, it was obvious he was hiding a smile. “I apologize. That was an immature way to handle the situation.”

Maka fumed at his insincerity, but Soul spoke before she could formulate a response. “How old are you, anyway?” Soul had looked up to Justin from the moment he’d seen the Death Scythe fight. Seeing a young scythe-type weapon like himself achieve so much had made Soul even more determined to become a Death Scythe himself.  

“I'm eighteen.”

“What? You’re my age?” Liz wailed. “And you already have your life together and everything? That’s not fair, I feel so unaccomplished.” 

“But you’re one of Lord Death’s personal weapons. That’s a tremendous accomplishment,” Justin tried to reassure her. 

Liz sniffed. “The club is getting pretty big.” 

Justin cast Kid a helpless look. “It’s fine, Liz,” Kid said. “No one’s comparing you to anyone. You’re perfect as you are. Unless you could manage to look a little more like Patti…” 

“Ugh, you two are horrible!” Liz whined. “You deserve each other.” She stomped off, dragging Patti with her to set the table. 

Crona took the opportunity to speak up, not having had much of a chance before. “Ragnarok and I have been practicing those meditation exercises you taught us, Mr. Justin. I think they’re really starting to help.”

“That’s good to hear, Crona,” Justin said warmly. “It sounds like by our next session you’ll be ready for more combat-oriented techniques.” 

“You’ve been seeing Justin for tutoring?” Kid asked. He really needed to keep better track of the things that were going on at his own school.  

“Mhm. Even though I’m not a first year weapon, Ragnarok and I still have problems with control, so Ms. Marie sent me to Mr. Justin for extra lessons.”

“I wasn’t certain I’d be much help, given your unique circumstances,” Justin admitted. “But I’m glad our sessions seem to be doing some good.” 

Black Star chose that moment to burst through the front door, with Tsubaki following apologetically in his wake. “The star’s here, now the party can get started!” he announced. Black Star always arrived late, just so everyone was awaiting his arrival. An untied bowtie hung down from the collar of a shirt that was at least two sizes too big for him, and only half tucked in. Next to Tsubaki, who looked impeccable in a long, pink wrap dress with a cherry blossom behind her ear, the contrast was almost comical. Almost, because Black Star’s unkept attire made Kid’s fingers itch with the need to straighten everything out. He clenched them into fists and settled for leading everyone into the dining room, where he would only have to look at the top half of Black Star’s messy outfit once his friend was seated.  

Kid sat at the head of the table, with Justin to his left and Liz and Patti to his right. Normally, he would have preferred to sit between the sisters, but somehow it felt balanced to have his old partners on one side and his new partner on the other. Other than the slight change in the seating arrangement, dinner with his friends was much the same as it always was – warm, noisy, filled with arguments and food tossed back and forth across the table – a barely contained chaos that didn’t bother Kid nearly as much as it should. He was thankful that his friends didn’t treat him differently now that he had taken his father’s place. Black Star and Soul were a little more hesitant to talk about blowing off assignments in front of him now that he was their headmaster, and Maka fought valiantly against her overachiever’s instincts to suck up to him for much the same reason. She still occasionally presented him with small gifts without explanation. But to them, he was still the same person they had learned, laughed and fought beside, and nothing, it seemed, could change that. 

And as Crona had demonstrated, there was always room for new friendships. If Justin was going to be his partner, then Kid hoped he could become a part of their friend group also. Kid was pleased that everyone seemed to be getting along well at dinner. Since Justin couldn’t watch more than one person talk at a time, the others quickly developed the habit of waving at him when they wanted his attention. Soul asked him dozens of questions about his experience as a Death Scythe, and in turn, Justin was eager to learn about working with a meister. After a little while, Black Star, annoyed that he wasn’t the center of attention, yelled “Hey Justin, think fast!” and threw a mini soufflé across the table at the guillotine weapon. Of course, Justin didn’t hear the warning, and just barely raised a bladed arm in time to slice the pastry in half before it would have smacked him in the face. Half the soufflé fell onto his plate, and the other half tumbled to the floor, where Blair pounced on it immediately. 

Justin frowned, running his fingers over his sliced-open sleeve after he’d retracted the blade. “Not again,” he sighed. “I liked this jacket.” Kid just barely restrained himself from asking Justin to cut through the other sleeve, too. Perhaps he _was_ trying to make a good impression. Thankfully, Justin was distracted from fussing with his sleeve by Blair, who mewed up at him in thanks. His frown melted into a smile, and he reached down to scratch behind Blair’s ears. “Aw, what a sweet little cat.” Blair purred and jumped up into his lap, and Justin laughed, giving her more attention. “Who’s a good kitty?” he crooned.   

Before any of them could warn him about Blair, she shifted to her human form, straddling Justin’s hips and resting her hands on his chest. “I would’t know,” she purred. “I’m a _bad_ kitty.”

Justin yelped and tipped his chair over backwards. Blair landed on top of him, her nose inches from his. “You can keep petting me if you want to,” she said, punctuating her words with a nip to Justin’s nose. 

The Death Scythe’s entire face turned pink, and for a moment he struggled to form a response. “N-no, thank you. I’ve pledged myself to god.” 

Blair cocked her head to the side. “To Kid, you mean?”

“M-metaphorically,” Justin said, his voice rising an octave in pitch. Kid was blushing too now, silently cursing his pale complexion. “Listen, would you mind…” Justin continued, still painfully polite. His hands hovered at her waist, but he was unwilling to touch her to physically move her away.

Thankfully, Maka had come prepared with a squirt bottle, and beat Justin to the punch by getting up and spraying water in Blair’s face. “Off,” Maka ordered, her tone threatening violence should her demand not be met.

Blair pouted, but clambered off of Justin and stood up, wiping droplets of water from her face. “You never let me have any fun.” With that, she turned tail and slunk out of the room, pausing only to shoot Justin a wink from the doorway before she disappeared. She was probably on her way to root through Kid’s pantry, but if it would keep her occupied, then Kid was willing to let her do her worst.

“Sorry about Blair,” Maka said, helping Justin to his feet so he could right his chair. “She wasn’t invited, but that never stops her from showing up. Or from pouncing on Soul, Kid or Black Star, depending on her mood. Crona’s immune for some reason.” 

“She thinks I’m a girl,” Crona muttered.  

“I’d have thought trying to corrupt a priest would be out of bounds even for her, but apparently she has no boundaries,” Maka continued.  

“Is she a friend of yours?” Justin asked, still looking a bit dazed as he smoothed out his clothes.  

“The word for her is freeloader,” Maka replied with a scowl. 

Liz was the first one to snicker, joined immediately by Patti and soon after by Black Star and Soul, then Crona, Kid, Tsubaki and even Justin, until everyone was laughing except for Maka. But finally, even Maka cracked a smile at Blair’s antics. The cat may be irritating and wildly inappropriate, but she never failed to spice up a party. After the laughter died down, Liz and Patti brought out the desserts, and conversations resumed. Patti inhaled about five of Justin’s cupcakes in five minutes, after which she demanded that Justin move in with them so they could have cupcakes for dessert every night.

Soul had more questions for Justin about his path to becoming a Death Scythe, but when he asked whether Justin knew who he'd inherited his weapon abilities from, Justin seemed caught off-guard. "Um, yes, but... I'm sorry, I'd rather not talk about my family." 

"Oh," said Soul, taken aback. "Yeah, that's fine. I get it. Family stuff can be rough. My older brother's the worst."  Kid cleared his throat pointedly. Soul rolled his eyes. "Okay, so Kid's older brother was literally evil and almost destroyed the world as we know it. But Wes is just  _so pretentious_."

Justin was just about to respond when Black Star yelled across the table, “Hey Kid, now that you have a Death Scythe and you’re a full-blown shinigami, we should have another duel! Maybe now that you've got enough power to take on a kishin, you’ll be a match for _me_ this time.”  He grinned wickedly, and Kid’s irritation flared. He had soundly defeated Black Star in their first duel, but Black Star had never let it go. Just because he’d proceeded to faint from one of his episodes after the fight was over, Black Star had claimed the victory. It had taken Kid some time to recover his pride and repair his reputation at the school after Black Star had spread it around that Death’s son had fainted at the mere prospect of fighting the mighty Black Star. 

Tsubaki gave Black Star a pleading look. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.” 

“Of course it’s a good idea, I came up with it,” Black Star responded with his typical logic. “We should do it tonight!”

Kid tamped down his ire and shook his head. “There’s no fighting allowed in the house.”  

“You gods and all your tyrannical rules,” Black Star scoffed.  

“No, that’s a perfectly normal rule that normal people have in their homes,” Kid replied. 

Black Star laughed, loud and full of bravado. “Not me! And when I surpass god, I’ll abolish all your dumb rules.” 

Justin dropped his fork on the tabletop, the clatter drawing all eyes to him. “That’s blasphemy,” he said quietly, his sky blue eyes darkening as though a storm were passing behind them. 

“Huh? How d’you figure?” Black Star asked, cocking his head. 

Justin closed his eyes and brought his hand to the skull-and-crucifix around his neck. “In the beginning, the Lord Death reigned supreme over all living things. And though humans have come to fear him through the ages, it has always been Death who has given our short lives meaning and maintained order in our world. Life is fleeting, but Death is constant and insurmountable. And that is as it should be.”

That kind of talk was rare within the walls of Death City, where the death gods were known to many of the people personally. That level of familiarity tended to erode the old mysticism that had surrounded Kid's ancestors for millennia. But people like Justin kept the old legends alive, most of which – Kid knew – were true. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a little bit pleased to hear them again. “You should listen to him, Black Star,” Kid said, examining his perfectly manicured nails. “No one conquers death.”

Unfortunately, he could never manage to scare Black Star, not even for Black Star’s own good. “Nah, I don’t buy it,” Black Star said. “I think you’re just scared of losing.”

“I’m not going to fight you,” Kid said, more seriously. “Especially not with Justin while we're still learning to control our attacks. We destroyed half the forest today, _by accident_. It would be too dangerous.”  

Kid should have known that was the exact wrong thing to say. Black Star’s eyes lit up, and he looked more determined to fight than ever. “I bet if I move all your picture frames, you’ll fight me.”  

Kid’s eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Black Star pushed his chair out at stood up. “Watch me.” But before he could move, Tsubaki knocked him out cold with a precise chop to the back of his neck. She caught him before he face planted into his food.

“Sorry about him,” she said bashfully. “I think it’s about time we head home. Thank you for a lovely evening.” With quick bow, she dragged a drooling Black Star out of the room. 

“Is he always like that?” Justin asked. 

“Pretty much,” Soul sighed. “I love the guy, but Tsubaki’s gotta be some kind of saint to put up with that idiot all the time.” 

“Still, it’s good for him to set lofty goals,” Kid said, catching the calculating look in Justin’s eye. “It’s how he improves. And if it doesn’t bother me, you don’t get to be bothered on my behalf,” he told Justin. He certainly wasn't going to duel Black Star with the Death Scythe if Justin had a mind to put Black Star in his place. Having the man’s complete devotion could be a double-edged sword. 

Justin bowed his head. “Of course,” he said. “That would not be my place.”

Deference wasn't really what Kid wanted from Justin, either. Black Star was excellent at challenging himself, but Kid tended to get stuck in his ways unless he was shaken out of them – he needed to be questioned and challenged by others. If Justin had a legitimate grievance about his handling of a situation, then Kid wanted to hear it. He just didn't want his partner acting in what he believed was Kid’s best interest without consulting Kid first. Their partnership would take some work, but all good partnerships did.

The others stayed for a while longer, but they all had school the next day, and had to get home at a reasonable hour. On such occasions, Soul never failed to express his jealousy that Kid no longer had to attend classes. Technically, Kid had never needed to enroll at the academy in the first place – that had been his choice. He had learned a lot in his classes and enjoyed his experience as a student immensely, but now his abilities had surpassed his human peers’ by so far that classes would no longer be helpful, even if his other duties didn't demand his full attention. No one even knew how to teach him anymore. What he still had left to learn, he would have to figure out on his own. Well, not entirely on his own. He had his partners to help him. 

xxx 

Thanks in part to Patti’s incessant nagging, Justin had moved into Gallows Manor by the end of the week. He didn't have much in the way of possessions. He was, after all, a man devoted to the spiritual world over the material one. (Kid, on the other hand, didn't see why one couldn't enjoy both.) Justin did have one weakness, however. He kept a small but carefully curated collection of medieval torture devices. While Kid and the sisters were helping him unpack, Liz, a modern weapon of impersonal, bloodless precision, had opened Justin’s box of sharp and pointy horrors and screamed. Justin had apologized profusely and explained that his interest in such items was purely academic. Researching the history and evolution of weaponry was a hobby of his, and he tended to pick up souvenirs during his travels in Europe. 

Liz wasn’t entirely satisfied with Justin’s explanation. She and Maka were probably equally creeped out by Justin’s morbid quirks by that point. But Patti had boldly reached into the box and plucked out a little finger guillotine, holding it aloft while exclaiming how cute it was.

"It’s like if you had a little baby, Justin! I’m naming him Justin Jr.”

Justin laughed nervously. “Weapon genetics don’t really work like that, I’m afraid.”

Patti cocked her head. “How _do_ they work?”

”Well, when two weapons...er...” Justin cleared his throat. “You know, that would be a good question for Professor Stein’s class. He’s the scientist, after all.” 

Patti grinned sharply. “You don’t know either, do you?”

Justin sighed, relieved. “You got me.”

”But you do know what all these thingys do, right?” she said, waving at the box with the finger guillotine. “Tell me about all of them! Gimme all the gory details.”

Justin beamed at her enthusiasm, and proceeded to show her the rest of his collection. She seemed to genuinely enjoy learning the names and gruesome functions of all the implements in Justin’s collection—almost as much as she enjoyed his cooking.  

“He’s a Death Scythe, not a personal chef,” Kid felt the need to remind her one morning when he came down to cook breakfast, only to find Justin already making Belgian waffles with Patti practically drooling over his shoulder. 

“It’s alright, I enjoy cooking,” Justin said, and to Patti’s credit, he looked very un-Death-Scythe-ly wearing a yellow, frilly apron over blue, flannel pajamas, his hair in an unusual state of disarray. Patti had most likely woken him up at an ungodly hour demanding to be fed, like she frequently did to Kid and Liz in turns. Kid walked up to Justin and started fixing Justin’s hair automatically, before he remembered that people usually regarded such treatment as an invasion of personal space, and an insulting one at that. But other than being slightly startled by Kid’s abruptness, Justin didn’t seem to mind, as he allowed the shinigami to continue arranging his hair into some semblance of order while he tended to the waffles. “I never really had the chance to cook for other people before,” he said when Kid had just about finished. Kid thought he might say more, but Justin left it at that. Kid supposed nothing more needed to be said. 

Professor Stein had certainly been right about first impressions not capturing the whole person, not that Kid needed any convincing on that point. Kid got to know Justin a little better every day, and he found himself warming to the man more and more. Of course, living with him did have its quirks. Justin constantly hummed in the shower, probably because he couldn’t bring his earphones in with him. But because he wore them everywhere else, it was easy to accidentally sneak up on him around the house, which was a good way of getting a guillotine blade pressed to one’s throat. Once, he accidentally decapitated one of Patti’s teddy bears when she was conducting one of her spot reflex tests. (Said tests were performed by throwing a stuffed animal at an unsuspecting victim and observing their reaction. Kid suspected Professor Stein would take issue with the experimental design.) Justin also tended to dance to his music when he thought no one was watching – a phenomenon that Liz had managed to catch on film, bringing her to her present internal struggle over whether to keep the video as blackmail or show it to everyone at the academy. It would certainly put a bit of a dent in Justin’s serious persona. But Kid had seen the Death Scythe fight, had seen how he liked to dance around his opponents, so to speak. He had never bought into Justin’s reputation as a grave instrument of justice. The Death Scythe enjoyed his work. 

Kid and Justin moved their practice sessions out into the desert surrounding the city after that first day. Sometimes Maka and Soul joined them and helped them master scythe-wielding techniques. Other times, when they were learning particularly dangerous special techniques, they practiced alone. Liz and Patti were happy to have some time off from dealing with their obsessive meister, and Justin, for his part, while he wasn’t as good at talking Kid down from his occasional fits as the sisters were, had infinite patience, and his calm demeanor helped soothe Kid’s nerves. 

If Kid had known then that only two weeks into their partnership, they would be faced with the greatest threat posed to the DWMA since Asura’s revival, he would have set a harsher training schedule. 

xxx

Early on a Sunday morning, Kid was awoken by the sound of someone trying to call him through the mirror. The harsh trill made him groan as he pushed off the covers and stumbled out of bed, scrubbing his eyes and patting down his hair. (While his stripes were finally symmetrical, their perfection showed any asymmetry in the way his hair fell even worse than before.) He went to his wardrobe first, pulling out his reaper’s cloak and fastening it around his shoulders so he wouldn’t be greeting whoever it was that was calling him at this hour in just his boxers. Then he moved to stand in front of his bedroom mirror, and answered the call with a simple hand signal. 

The reflection in the mirror blurred, and then resolved itself into a view of the Death Room, and Kim Diehl standing on the dais in front of what must be his father’s mirror. She greeted him with a scowl, as she was accustomed to doing ever since he’d accidentally walked in on her in the girls’ shower room. Well, Kid thought of it as an accident owing to the hurry he’d been in at the time. Kim thought of it differently. “I expected to find you here,” she said, foregoing any usual pleasantries.  

“In the Death Room?” Kid said incredulously. “It’s…” he squinted back at his alarm clock on the nightstand, his double irises focusing easily on the little numbers across the distance, “5:22 AM on a Sunday. I’m not my father – I don’t live at the academy.” 

Kim looked unimpressed. She also took a moment to look over Kid’s mostly naked form, not in a way that belied any interest, but in a cool, calculating sort of way. Kid figured it was quid pro quo from the shower room incident, so he didn’t bother to pull his cloak tighter around himself. “I have an urgent matter to discuss with you, as the DWMA’s liaison with the Witches’ Council,” she said, finally meeting Kid’s eyes once more. 

That woke Kid up quickly. He unconsciously straightened his posture. “What is it?” 

“The Council was reluctant to bring you into this matter, but it’s gotten out of hand, and we need outside help. One of our sisters has left the fold to pursue her own agenda — an agenda that puts her in conflict with humans as well as with other witches. Her name is Raptra, and she’s extremely powerful. The only reason she isn't one of the Council Elders is because her views have always been controversial and divisive. She has never agreed with our decision to ally with the DWMA, and finally, when she saw that we would not break the alliance after Asura was defeated, she left. We heard nothing from her until a week ago, when a series of mysterious murders occurred in Eastern Europe. The souls seemed to have been ripped right out of the flesh. The trail of bodies has now reached Western Europe, and the most recent was found with a note written in blood. It was signed by Raptra, and declares her intention to make herself a kishin so she will have the power to lead the witches against you. She is acting alone for now, but I worry that she may find supporters on the Council if she isn’t stopped soon.”

“A kishin witch?!” Kid exclaimed. “She would be nearly as powerful as a kishin shinigami – as Asura! Why wasn’t I informed of this sooner?” 

“This is a very delicate and personal issue for us,” Kim explained. “We had hoped to handle it ourselves, but her power has grown beyond what we can match. Still, the Council doesn’t want this turning into another of the DWMA’s old witch hunts. Any perception that the academy’s stance on witches has changed would put the alliance at risk, and that would only empower those who would support Raptra. We are asking you to take on this task personally, not as the headmaster of the DWMA, but as a shinigami. We request that you to lay her troubled soul to rest, not hunt her down like prize game.” 

Kid took a second to process and compose himself. “So what you’re really asking,” he reiterated, “is that I _not_ devote the academy’s resources to this task. That I go after her on my own.”

“The way this is handled will affect the future of the Council’s relationship with the DWMA. Our alliance is still very new, and not very strong. But neither side wants to see it break.”

As irritating as the politics were when so much was at stake, Kim had a point. The long term had to be taken into account as well. “Very well,” said Kid. “You can inform the Council that I will take on this task as a matter of my personal duty as a shinigami, and that the DWMA will not be involved. I just need to put things in order at the academy and then I’ll leave at once. Is there anything else you can tell me about the witch Raptra that might be useful?” 

“She always kept to herself, so none of us know much about her,” Kim said. “I can tell you that her familiar is a vulture, so watch the skies.”

“Thank you,” Kid said. Kim nodded. “I’ll be in touch.” He ended the call, and turned to pack a bag. He had a renegade witch to put down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For this fic, when I use the witchcraft term "familiar", I'm referring to the animal with which a witch's magic is associated (e.g. Medusa's familiar is a snake, Arachne's is a spider, etc.), not the traditional definition.


	4. Into Madness

At dawn, the Grim Reaper and his three weapons arrived at Professor Stein’s laboratory near the Death City Cemetery. (If the inhabitants of Death City thought that a science laboratory located next to a cemetery was a little bit suspect, they were wise enough never to remark upon it.) Kid stepped forward and rang the doorbell, and a deep and hollow sound echoed through the building. A few minutes later, a tired-looking Stein opened the door, a bath robe wrapped around his lithe frame rather than his usual lab coat. 

“Lord Death,” he greeted Kid politely, then nodded to Liz, Patti and Justin. “I suppose this is urgent business. Why don’t you come in?”

The four of them followed the Professor inside, down a long, dim corridor lit by flickering fluorescents. Liz shivered and moved a little closer to Patti as they walked. Finally, they emerged into a cozier sitting room that bore traces of Marie’s more hospitable touch. Stein began brewing a pot of coffee on a Bunsen burner while Kid explained the situation as Kim had related it. When the coffee was finished, Stein distributed it in beakers and the small group gathered around the coffee table, Stain taking the armchair, Liz and Patti settling on one sofa, Kid and Justin on the other. 

“So this is what they’ve been hiding from us,” Stein said, after Kid had finished. He looked grave, but not entirely surprised. 

“You had suspicions about the witches?” Kid asked pointedly. Was everyone keeping things from him these days?

“Nothing I could verify,” Stein explained. “I didn’t want to sow mistrust by raising formless allegations. Still, I don’t like the way the witches handled this.”

“They have good cause to withhold their complete trust from us,” Kid pointed out. 

“Both sides do,” Stein said. “But the point of an alliance is to replace mutual suspicion with mutual trust.”

“Regardless,” said Kid, “it’s our move now. The four of us are going to Germany to catch up with Raptra and put a stop to this. I’m leaving the academy in your hands while I’m gone, Professor.”

“Let me and Spirit come with you,” Stein petitioned. “You don’t need to let the witches dictate your decisions. You don’t have to do this alone.”

Kid schooled his features into a calm smile, despite feeling anything but. “I won’t be alone. I’ll have a Death Scythe and a pair of demon pistols.”

“No one can wield three weapons at once.”

That actually got a genuine chuckle out of Kid. “Of course not. Justin and the Thompson sisters are excellent independent fighters, and together, they cover ranged and close combat. We’ll switch off depending on what we need, and fight as a team.”

“That could work in theory, but that fighting style is unprecedented,” Stein said, frowning in thought. 

“We can do it,” Kid assured him. “This is my responsibility. Your responsibility now is to Ms. Marie, and to your son.” Kid gazed off down one of the connecting corridors, where he could sense Marie’s powerful soul and the tiny, fluttering soul of her unborn child, both peacefully dormant. “Every son deserves to know his father.”

Stein hadn’t put up much more of a fight after that. They’d left him sipping the bitter dregs of his coffee and looking uncharacteristically helpless. He had never been particularly cautious with his own life, but now that his life was bound to others’, he had to factor their needs into his calculations. 

xxx

There remained the matter of actually _getting_ to Germany. As a shinigami, Kid could walk through planes of existence that most living things could not. If he were to go through the mirrors, or through the liminal space between life and death where souls awaited his care, he could be in Germany in an instant. But he wouldn’t risk bringing his weapons with him into such places. “I can carry Liz and Patti,” Kid contemplated aloud as they walked through streets made phantasmagorical by early morning mist, “but you’re not the most portable weapon, Justin. Your weight would throw off my balance, and Beelzebub isn’t built for two. We’ll have to take your ATV.”

“To Europe?” Justin asked, obviously struggling with his desire not to question Kid’s word. “You realize all-terrain doesn’t include water…”

“It doesn’t have to,” said Kid. “It just has to fly.” He smiled at the rather adorably starry-eyed look the Death Scythe gave him. “What kind of god would I be if I couldn't work a few miracles?”

In the DWMA’s faculty garage, Kid placed a hand on the hood of Justin’s monstrous, custom ATV. The thing could eat Soul’s motorcycle for breakfast, Kid thought idly as he worked his spell. After a moment, the engine roared to life, and all four wheels pivoted beneath the chassis and spewed concentrated jets of flame against the concrete as they moved parallel to the ground. The exhaust pipes belched black smoke in the shape of skulls, and the ATV rose about a foot off the ground, the jets running steady. Kid took his hand away. “That ought to do it.” Justin looked as though Kid had just presented him with a rainbow. “Oh, and I don’t know how to operate this thing,” Kid added slyly, “so you should probably drive.”

Justin broke into an all-out grin, and swung himself easily up onto the front section of the hovering vehicle’s seat. Liz and Patti assumed their weapon forms, and Kid fit them securely into their holsters. Then he pulled himself up to sit behind Justin, cautiously putting his arms around the Death Scythe’s waist to hold on. Justin revved the engine gleefully and leaned out to the side to ask Kid over his shoulder, “Any music requests?”

The vehicle’s professional-grade speaker system loomed impressively at Kid’s back. “How do you feel about Iron Maiden?” Kid ventured. Liz groaned from her place at Kid’s side, but the young shinigami ignored her. 

Justin’s expression turned suddenly grave. “You are my one true god, but I also worship Steve Harris just a little.” 

Kid laughed. “Then I’m in good company. What are you waiting for? Turn it up.”

Justin hooked his MP3 player into the system and queued up his Iron Maiden collection. Then he shifted into gear, and they roared out of the garage and into the open sky, the first chords of “Hallowed Be Thy Name” blasting from the speakers like the word of god from the heavens. 

xxx

It was the middle of the night when they arrived at the small, Bavarian town where Raptra had made her latest kill the night before. Justin landed the ATV in the deserted town square and Kid unholstered Liz and Patti so they could resume their human forms and stretch out the stiffness from the journey. “If she’s still here, she’s using Soul Protect,” Kid said, scanning the surrounding Gothic architecture. The spindly clock tower that stood watch over the square indicated the local time was 12:04. The streets were lit by dim, yellow sodium lamps that seemed to cast more jaundiced shadows than light. A crow screamed from somewhere among the rooftops and Kid's fingers twitched, seeking the resistance of a trigger. He pulled his cloak tighter around himself and adjusted his skull mask over his face. 

“Why do we always end up in such creepy places?” Liz whined, hugging herself and sticking close to her sister. “You’d better not run off on us again like you did in that old pyramid, Kid! I don't want my soul to be witch food!”

“The Pyramid of Anubis?” Justin interjected unexpectedly. “I heard that story. It was very impressive.”

Liz seemed to forget her fear as she looked at Justin in confusion. Impressive wasn't the word she would have chosen. "Huh?"

"I heard the three of you reduced it to rubble as a temple to a false death god," he said. 

Kid dropped his masked face into his hand, sighing. “No, that was an accident. That pyramid was one of the most beautifully symmetrical structures I’ve ever seen.”

"Yeah, Kid still cries about it sometimes," Liz said.

“Oh,” said Justin. “In that case, my condolences... Anyway,” he pivoted awkwardly, “I have an idea of where we can start our search. The intelligence network I established while I was stationed in this region should still be active. We just need to get to the church.”

"If you still have contacts here, why didn't they notify you of these attacks?" Kid asked. 

Justin looked troubled. "I don't know. But I intend to find out." He reached for his earphones dangling down the front of his coat, but paused. "If I wear these, I won't be able to understand you with your mask on."

Well, that was a problem. Justin needed his music to stay focused, and Kid needed to wear his mask on official business. "Let me try something." He reached out and flattened his palm against Justin's chest, closing his eyes so he could tune into Justin's soul wavelength. Justin stilled beneath Kid's touch, as if he'd forgotten to breathe. His soul wavelength, however, was steady and strong. Still, the more Kid concentrated, the more clearly he began to sense...echoes. Disruptions in the pattern. The irregularity immediately got on Kid's nerves, and he set about smoothing out the rough edges, willing the remnants of other, corrupted souls to be quiet and calm.

He wasn't sure how many minutes the two of them stood like that, but when Kid was finally satisfied with his work, he opened his eyes to see that Justin was on the verge of tears. Kid snatched his hand back, alarmed. "Did I hurt you?" he demanded. 

"No," said Justin, and he smiled despite the tears in his eyes. "It's...quiet."

Kid was grateful for his mask as he felt a blush rise to his cheeks. "What I did won't last more than a few hours, but if you let me know when it wears off, I'm pretty sure I can do it again."

Kid had barely finished speaking when he was caught up in a hug that nearly forced the breath from his lungs. "Thank you, Kid," Justin murmured. Then he seemed to remember himself, and drew back. "Sorry."

"No need to apologize," said Kid. "I'm used to tackle-hugs from Patti. I just didn't expect one from you." 

Justin laughed, swiping the water from his eyes. "Me, either." 

xxx

The town sprawled down the hillside into the fertile river valley. The church crouched vigilantly atop the hill, its dark spire visible from almost any approach. As they walked toward it through the crooked cobblestone streets, Kid and Justin in the lead, with Liz and Patti close behind, Kid concentrated harder on the aura of this place. Liz was right – there was something sinister in the air. When Kid finally identified what it was, his step faltered. It was madness. Lingering and faint, but pervasive, as though it had seeped into the ancient stones of the buildings and congealed there. It had taken him so long to recognize it because it wasn’t born of fear, like Asura’s madness had been, but of something like…rage. Kid had stopped walking altogether now, although he barely noticed. The last time madness had taken hold of him, Black Star had managed to pull him out of its grasp. 

_“What do you want me to tell your friends about where you are?”_ Professor Stein had asked before they left. _“If they know the truth, they’ll come after you. Nothing will stop them from trying to help you if they think you’re in danger.”_

_“Tell them I’m establishing my reputation,”_ Kid had replied after a moment's thought. _“A new shinigami for a new world.”_

The air seemed suddenly thick, like tar, and Kid felt he might choke. Until a warm hand closed firmly around his, and for a moment he thought he heard music wash over his soul, leaving it pure and strong. “I feel it too,” Justin murmured from beside him. But the Death Scythe’s eyes held nothing but determination and devotion. 

Liz placed a hand on Kid’s shoulder and squeezed. “We’ve got your back, Kid,” she said. Patti nodded vigorously in agreement. 

Kid took a deep breath and let it out slowly. The air didn’t stick to the inside of his lungs like it had a moment ago, like fingers reaching inside of him. He was calm. He was himself. “Thank you,” he said. He had been foolish to let panic take hold of him like that. Of course he could rely on his partners for support. That was what weapon/meister partnerships were for. That was what _friends_ were for. 

Together they pressed on, and Kid didn’t let go of Justin’s hand until they were standing in front of the heavy, wooden doors of the old church.


	5. The Hunt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! So sorry for the unplanned hiatus. I hope to update more frequently from now on. I've also edited the previous chapters a bit if it's been awhile and you'd like to re-read them.

“You might want to let me do the talking,” Justin said, wrapping a hand around one of the enormous, bronze knockers and striking it thrice against the door in even succession. “The pastor could be easily overwhelmed by your presence here.”

Kid nodded his assent. Neither he nor his father had ever interacted much with their priesthood throughout the world, Justin excepting. His father had been bound to Death City and couldn’t leave, but Kid could go where he pleased. Perhaps he ought to play a more ambassadorial role in the future. Kid filed the thought away for later. 

“That’s something, coming from you,” Liz muttered. 

Justin frowned. He was about to respond when the door creaked open ajar on ancient hinges, revealing a shadowy, robed figure within. He looked to be a man of middling age, his wizened face cast in chiaroscuro by a single oil lamp that he held in crooked fingers.

_“Brother,”_ the priest greeted Justin in German, his voice rough with sleep. _“From what parish do you hail?”_

_“I am with an envoy from Death City,”_ Justin answered in faltering German. _“We are here about the, ah…_ the witch,” Justin finished in English. 

“ _Die hexe,_ ” the older priest said with a grim nod. “ _Come in.”_ He left the door open for them and shuffled back into the church, lighting a few spare torches along the walls with his lamp. The four of them followed him into the medieval building, Kid pulling the doors shut behind them. As the pastor flipped through a gold chain of keys to unlock an old, wooden cabinet in one of the chapels, his voice echoed back to them. “ _If you come from Death City, you must be Brother Law. You are most welcome in any house of Death, Brother, but someone from the academy has already been here. Still, if you want me to recount what happened, I will tell you everything I know. I’m afraid I do not have much to offer visitors, but we make a fine wine in this village. Perhaps we could share a bottle to warm our souls as we discuss these dark matters.”_

Carefully, he pulled a dusty bottle of red wine from the cabinet and turned to face them. That was when his eyes first fell upon Kid. “ _Death_ ,” he gasped. The bottle shattered on the floor, splashing red across the flagstones, and the priest dropped to his knees. 

“ _Oh dear, that really isn’t necessary. Please, stand up_ ,” Kid implored in perfect German. He knew that his father had commanded this kind of dread and awe in eras past, but he had rarely experienced it himself, and it made him uncomfortable. 

The priest lurched to his feet again as if it had been a command rather than a request. “ _Is it…?_ ” he began, but his voice was breathless, and it failed him. He swallowed hard and tried again. “ _Is it really you? Death himself at my door?_ ”

Kid inclined his head, unsure what to say. Finally, he settled on, “ _I’m here to help. But first, I need you to help me_.”

“ _Y-yes, Lord Death, anything. This is your house and I your humble servant_.”

Kid tried for a little levity, hoping to put the man more at ease. “ _There’s no need to be so nervous. I’m not here for your soul_.”

From the wide-eyed look he received from the man in response, the joke had missed the mark. Thankfully, Justin stepped in to try to calm the other priest down. “ _Do you have any more of that wine, Brother? We should sit down and talk_.” 

The pastor blinked blearily at Justin, as if only just remembering that he was there. “ _Yes, yes, of course_.” He looked regretfully down at the broken bottle, and stooped to pick up the shards. 

Liz stepped forward and put a hand on the man’s arm. “My sis and I will get that. We can’t understand a word you guys are saying, anyway.” She looked back at Kid. “Give us the Cliff Notes when you’re done,” she said with a dismissive wave. Then she and Patti got to work cleaning up the mess. 

“ _Danke_ ,” the priest muttered to the sisters. 

The three of them moved to rickety, wooden chairs around a small table in the chapel. The priest opened a new bottle of wine and filled one goblet, then another, his hand trembling slightly. He paused in reaching for a third. “ _Ah, Lord Death, will you partake_?”

Kid didn’t know whether the priest was questioning if Kid was old enough to drink (which he was—in Germany), or whether he ate or drank anything at all, but Kid decided he would spare them both the awkwardness of either exchange. “ _No, thank you, Herr...?_ ”

“ _Engel. Bastian Engel,_ ” Bastian replied. He seemed only slightly relieved to join them at the table. “ _Was there something lacking in the report I gave that young lady from the DWMA?_ ”

Kid had had his suspicions about this mysterious representative from the academy earlier, but now he was certain he knew who it was. “ _Short girl, short hair, short temper?_ ” he asked.

“ _Eh, yes, that would be her_ ,” Bastian replied uncomfortably. 

Kid leaned over to murmur to Justin, “Kim Diehl has been intercepting the reports from your network. That’s how the Witches’ Council managed to keep news of this rogue witch from reaching the DWMA.” Kid himself had remained in the dark through the attacks because, with the souls immediately consumed, he had never even sensed the deaths. 

If Kid weren’t already so well-attuned to Justin’s body language, he would have missed the slight twitch in the Death Scythe’s jaw as he took a measured sip of wine. When he set the goblet down again, his face was entirely unreadable. Kid had forgotten how good Justin was at playing a part. After all, he’d had Kid fooled when he’d double-crossed them all and declared his loyalty to Asura. Even the memory of it made Kid shiver.

“ _That was a preliminary report_ ,” said Justin. “ _Now we are here to deal with the problem. Just to be thorough, why don’t you start by telling us what you told her?_ ”

Bastian nodded. “ _I did not witness the attack myself. I doubt I would be sitting here with you if I had. I could find no witnesses, but the poor woman was killed right outside this church. It is possible that she was running here to seek refuge, but...I never heard a thing. I found her body the next morning._ ” A single, silver tear dripped from the tip of his chin to splash into the red inside his goblet. 

“ _The body was mutilated_ ,” said Justin calmly. “ _Was the throat cut?_ ”

Bastian nodded again, solemnly. _“Not just cut. Torn out.”_

Kid realized the purpose of Justin’s question. “ _So she couldn’t scream_ ,” he concluded. 

Everything about these killings was sickening. Slaughtering innocents was bad enough, but stealing their souls, denying them passage to the next life? It was the worst crime Kid could imagine. It was madness.

“ _What of the note?_ ” asked Justin. 

“ _It was written in blood on the wall of the church, above the body. After I showed it to your emissary, I tried to scrub it off, but the blood would not come out of the stones. I will bring the lantern and show it to you when you are ready to leave._ ”

“ _Thank you_ ,” said Justin. “ _Did anyone happen to notice a stranger in town?_ ”

“ _On the eve of the murder, one of my parishioners passed a strange woman dressed in a long, grey coat on the road into town. But that woman could live in the next town over and be visiting family here. No one can say with certainty that they saw the witch. It’s strange..._ ”

“ _Witches are experts at blending in with ordinary humans,_ ” said Justin. “ _It’s not surprising that no one noticed her._ ”

“ _No, I meant the vultures are strange._ ”

“ _Vultures?_ ” demanded Kid. “ _What vultures?_ ”

“ _Well, after the murder, they have continued to circle over the town. It is as though they are expecting another meal—another death._ ”

Kid stood abruptly, his chair clattering over the flagstones. “She’s still here. And she could kill again tonight. We need to be out in the streets,” he told Justin. Then, to Bastian he said, “ _I wish I had time to thank you properly for your help, but we need to leave._ ”

“ _To bring death to the witch?_ ” the priest asked as he got to his feet. 

“ _To bring justice to the dead_ ,” said the shinigami. 

Kid called Liz and Patti back over, and Bastian followed them outside. He led them around the side of the church, where he shone his lantern on the old stone wall. The letters had faded to a grimy brown, but the message was still clear:

_My sisters have cowered needlessly in Death’s shadow long enough. They only need a powerful leader to remind them of their own power. A kishin brought down Death before, and when I have a kishin’s power, no one will dare hunt us again. We will be the hunters.  
_ _– Raptra_

Patti whistled. “That’s a lot of blood.” Below the message, ruddy brown had splashed up the wall and across the cobblestones, staining the spot with the memory of violence. 

“This is the first time she has left a note, and the first time she hasn’t fled after a kill,” Justin said. “It sounds like she's calling on the Council to support her, but she might also be trying to draw you into a trap.”

“Well, I’m here,” said Kid, disgusted with the scene. “She can come get me.”

xxx

If Raptra was on the hunt, the quickest way to draw her out was with bait. Kid had by far the most powerful soul of the four of them, but although reapers couldn’t use Soul Protect, he was taking precautions so he could pass undetected. Just as his father had been able to do, Kid could now expand his soul over miles, so it appeared to anyone in the area that he had no soul at all. And if he was invisible to Raptra now, he didn’t want to give up that tactical advantage so early in the game. That made Justin, with a Death Scythe’s soul, the next most attractive bait.

“It’s _freezing_!” Liz complained as she, Patti and Kid walked across the roof of a house five stories above street level. Each of the streets that twisted around the center of town was its own isolated corridor of tall, narrow houses packed side-by-side. The streets were empty this deep into the night, but the houses themselves seemed to stand watch over the streets below. 

“Why doesn’t Justin have to wear a skimpy outfit?” Liz continued. “I’m calling double standard, Kid.” 

“Justin already has a uniform. He wears the robes of his religious order,” Kid replied. He refused to be distracted from the task at hand by pointless tangents, even if this one was…quite distracting. 

“It’s _your_ religious order,” Liz grumbled. “He’d wear whatever you told him to.”

“And what he wears coordinates with what I wear anyway, so the two of us balance you and your sister. It’s symmetrical,” said Kid. 

“I think Justin would look cute in a maid’s outfit like the ones big sis and I have!” Patti chimed in. 

Kid blushed furiously beneath his mask. “Can we just focus on the witch, please? If you’re really that cold, you can transform,” he snapped. 

Liz pouted. “Fine. But don’t bitch at me if my metal’s too cold.” With that, she transformed into her weapon form in an arc of pink light, and Kid caught her in mid-air.

“I don’t bitch at you,” Kid mumbled half-heartedly, knowing even as he said it that it wasn’t entirely true. He certainly wasn’t the easiest meister a weapon could have. He walked to the edge of the roof and looked down. Justin was leaning against the gas lamppost across the street, bathed in a dim halo of light amidst a sea of sinister shadows. He exchanged a quick glance and a nod with Kid, before looking away, back into the darkness at the end of the street. Kid wondered how long it would take for Justin to grow just as tired of his antics as Liz was. 

At least he would always have Patti’s interminable enthusiasm. “You had better transform too, Patti,” he said. “We need to be ready if Justin needs help.”

“Got it!” 

Once he was holding both demon pistols, Kid crouched down at the edge of the roof and activated Death Cannon. The gun barrels elongated and expanded, encasing his forearms. “ _Resonance stable_ ,” Liz informed him. 

“ _Resonance rate at ten percent_ ,” said Patti. 

“Let’s scale it back to one percent,” said Kid. “We can’t afford collateral damage in these narrow streets.” As Liz and Patti reduced the resonance rate, Kid engaged targeting and set his sights on Justin. 

“ _This brings back memories_ ,” Liz said. 

Kid sighed. “We’re not shooting Justin this time. We’re protecting him.”

At that moment, a scream rang out through the silent street. Seconds later, a woman came running out of the shadows and into the light, her long, black coat flowing behind her. “ _Oh, Father, deliver me from evil!_ ” she cried, throwing herself into Justin’s arms. “ _It’s the witch! She’s after me!_ ”

“ _Calm down_ ,” Justin told her, holding her at arm’s length so he could look her over. She appeared uninjured, and as Kid examined her himself, he realized that in the light, her coat wasn’t black. It was grey. 

The next instant, the woman’s hand twisted and elongated into the talons of a bird of prey, and shot toward Justin in a blur. But Justin was faster, and he switched their positions so that her arms were twisted behind her back. He then leveraged his hold and her pain to force her to her knees. Finally, he transformed his left arm into a lunette, which he locked around her neck to hold her still. From his right arm he brought forth his guillotine blade. As he raised the blade high, he looked down at the witch with the dispassionate gaze of an executioner. “Don’t lose your head,” he told her. 

Disturbingly, she began to laugh – a chilling, birdlike screech. She turned her head to the side, and kept turning it a full 180 degrees, until she could look up into Justin’s eyes. “Don’t lose yours,” she said. 

When their eyes met, Justin froze, his blade suspended above her throat. He looked as though she’d run him through with a lance, but he was physically unharmed, and she was still incapacitated. Then Kid sensed it. Madness. It was radiating from her like smog, and she had just released her Soul Protect to shoot a massive wave of it through Justin. 

Justin screamed. 


	6. Soul-searching

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this chapter turned out darker than I thought it would. Sorry. This thing has a happy ending, I promise.
> 
> On a lighter note, working on this fic again inspired me to make a couple of Soul Eater AMVs for Kid and Justin. They're linked below if you want to take a look.
> 
> Kid: https://youtu.be/hbdA_-pbsB4  
> Justin: https://youtu.be/znWeXIvaqdc

Kid didn’t have a clear shot. Justin and Raptra were too close. Kid couldn’t tell exactly how the madness wavelength had affected Justin, but he wasn’t moving. He’d stopped screaming, but his whole body was trembling, and his transformations had failed, allowing Raptra to slip free of his grasp. 

To Kid’s frustration, she crouched right in front of Justin to examine him. Still no clear shot. “Such a troubled soul,” she crooned. “But so powerful. You must be a Death Scythe.” Justin wasn’t listening to her. He didn’t even seem to hear her. He had curled in on himself, clutching his head in his hands. “I had hoped Lord Death would come in person. I would _kill_ for a taste of a shinigami soul.” Raptra grinned, raising her taloned hand. “But I’m sure yours will be delicious.”

Justin was out of time. Kid had to act. “You want to know what my soul tastes like?” he called, condensing his soul once more so he was sure to get Raptra’s attention. She leapt to her feet and whipped around to face him. With Justin still crouched on the ground, Kid finally had his shot. “Eat this,” he said, and fired both cannon barrels at Raptra’s face. 

The blast sent her careening into the lamppost with enough force that it bent sharply, and flickered out. Justin was knocked back by the explosion, landing in an uncoordinated heap. But at least he was closer to Kid, and away from Raptra. Before the dust settled, Kid leapt down from the roof and landed in a crouch on the cobblestones. “Liz, Patti.” He tossed both weapons out in front of him, and they transformed in mid-air to land on their feet. “I need you to keep her busy for a minute.”  

The sisters nodded, Patti changing back to weapon form and landing in Liz’s outstretched hand. “What are you gonna do?” Liz asked. 

“I’m going to get Justin back in this fight.” Now that Raptra had dropped her Soul Protect, Kid could see that her soul had swelled to power levels well beyond even the most powerful of the witches, and the soul itself was roiling with violent madness. Kid did not want to take his chances against her without a Death Scythe.  

Under a hail of gunfire, Kid bolted to Justin’s side. Justin was curled up on on the ground, trembling and still clutching his head. Kid pulled off his mask. “Justin?” When he received no response, he cautiously extended a hand toward his new partner, ready to leap back should the Death Scythe lash out at him. “Justin, can you hear me?” 

“The screaming,” Justin gasped, his eyes shut tight as though he were in great pain. “It’s deafening.” He began to whimper helplessly. 

No one was screaming. The street resounded with gunfire as Liz and Patti kept a still-disoriented Raptra on the defensive, the sound hopefully warning any civilians in the area away from the fight, but there were no screams. When Kid finally laid his hand on Justin’s shoulder and reached out for his soul, however, a complete cacophony flooded his senses. Kid snatched his hand back out of reflex. If _that_ was the chaos Raptra’s madness had set raging in Justin’s soul, it was a wonder the weapon had been able to form a coherent sentence.   

There wasn’t time for Kid to attempt to quiet the tumult in Justin’s soul as he had before – not when it was this bad. There was only one thing he could think to try, and he hated doing it without the other person’s permission. It would be a tremendous invasion of Justin’s privacy and a violation of his trust. But there was simply no time for Kid to explain himself. Only Justin could calm his soul, but Kid could help. Everyone had at least a little madness in their soul. Madness wavelengths amplified it. If he searched Justin’s soul for the ember of madness that Raptra had fanned into a flame, he could help Justin contain it. Bracing himself for the onslaught this time, Kid reached out again and flattened his hand against Justin’s chest. 

_ Hundreds of screaming voices hit him like a wall of sound, but Kid pushed past them until they faded into whispers. He found himself sitting in a familiar classroom. It was one of the DWMA’s lecture halls, filled with students he didn’t recognize. All except one. The blonde-haired, blue-eyed boy sitting next to him was unmistakably Justin, although it was strange seeing him in street clothes. He looked several years younger than his classmates. From the writing on the chalkboard, this appeared to be an advanced E.A.T. class. _

_ Sid, still living, was at the front of the room, giving a lecture on special tactics for various weapon types. It was difficult to make out what he was saying, as the whispers had not faded away completely. Kid looked over at Justin again and noticed he was frowning at the board. It seemed to be taking him tremendous effort to concentrate. The whispers grew louder, echoing and amplifying each other, until it was like a loud static had filled the room. The lecture was now entirely incomprehensible. Justin grit his teeth, the only warning before he whipped around, one bladed arm extended, and yelled, “SHUT UP!” _

_ The blade stopped inches from the throat of the student sitting behind him. “Whoa, what the hell?!” the other boy exclaimed, scrambling back in his seat. “I wasn’t talking!” _

_ Justin looked just as startled as the older boy. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, retracting his blade.  _

_ “What the hell is wrong with you?” the boy demanded.  _

_ “I… N-nothing,” Justin stammered, looking even more disturbed.  _

_ Sid interjected. “Justin, go wait in the hall for the last ten minutes of class. After I’m done here, we’re going to the Death Room to discuss your recent outbursts with Lord Death.” He watched Justin warily as the young weapon gathered up his things and walked to the door, his head down, his cheeks burning with anger and embarrassment.  _

_ As Justin passed, the boy he’d nearly attacked leaned over to the girl next to him and whispered, “That kid’s a psycho. He could’ve killed me.” _

_ The girl nodded, her eyes still tracking Justin’s movements. “He scares me. You’ve heard his new alias, right? The Executioner.”  _

_Justin didn’t give any indication of having heard them, but Kid realized he must have. This was a memory, after all. Sid stopped Justin as he passed with a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t think you mean to be threatening,” he said in a low voice, “but you’re a very dangerous weapon, and it would be easy for you to hurt someone very badly by accident. We need to figure something out, or we won’t be able to risk having you in class.”  _

_ Justin nodded gravely, saying nothing for a long moment. Finally, under his breath he said, “They’re right. I’m no better than them.” _

_ “Those kids?” Sid asked, nodding to the two students whispering. “Don’t listen to them.” _

_“No, not them,” said Justin.  _

_Sid frowned. “Who, then?”  _

_“…No one.”  _

_This must have been when Justin thought he was going mad. He was scared of himself, and scared to talk to anyone else about his problem. Madness could corrupt the soul, and the DWMA’s mission was to hunt those whose souls had been corrupted. By this point, Justin had collected many corrupted souls himself. He knew what his fate would be should he fail to safeguard his soul against evil.  _

_ For some reason, he’d thought he was no better than the monsters whose souls he’d taken. If the voices were tormenting him with the same words now as they had been then, perhaps he still thought that of himself. But why? To Kid’s knowledge, Justin had never killed an innocent, not even by accident. Stein must have diagnosed him soon after this incident, before he could become too dangerous to be allowed to stay at the academy.  _

_Kid stood and ran after Justin out of the classroom. He found him sitting out in the hallway with his back against the wall, his knees drawn up and his head buried in his crossed arms. Kid couldn’t tell whether he was crying, or trembling with some other emotion. Irrationally, Kid wanted to stay with this vulnerable, young Justin and comfort him. Perhaps Kid could even see his father again, if only in Justin’s memories. But this was just a memory, he reminded himself, and it wasn’t the one he was looking for. He needed to go further back.  _

_He crouched down next to Justin and asked, “Why do you think you’re no better than the evil you hunt?”  _

_ Justin shook his head, burying his face deeper in his arms. Kid was acutely aware that in the present, precious seconds were slipping by, and each second that Liz and Patti had to fight alone increased the danger they were in. Kid couldn’t waste time stumbling around in the dark.  _

_ If Justin wouldn’t cooperate, Kid would have to force his hand. As distasteful as the means were, the end would be for Justin’s own good. He told himself that this was all for Justin’s sake, repeating it in his head like a mantra as he lifted Justin’s chin in his hand, forcing the scared young boy to look him in the eyes. “ **Show me** ,” he commanded, willing Justin’s soul to yield to his power as a full-fledged shinigami and the shepherd of all souls.  _

_ Justin gasped, his eyes widening as they stared into Kid’s. His voice wavered, barely more than a whisper. One word escaped his lips: “Death.”  _

_ Kid got the chilling feeling that Justin wasn’t referring to his name. Their surroundings warped and blurred, until suddenly Kid found himself in the living room of a modest home. The drone of whispers hadn’t followed them here, but an entirely different commotion filled the room. A man, clearly drunk, was stumbling around, knocking over furniture and other things, yelling and ranting about working all day for his family and not getting the thanks he deserved. In the corner of the room, a woman was sobbing, begging the man to calm down. Kneeling beside her was Justin, no more than eight or nine years old in this memory, his arms wrapped as far around the woman as they could reach, as if his small body could shield the woman from the man’s wrath. These were Justin’s parents, Kid realized. He had his father’s blonde hair, but those sky blue eyes he’d gotten from his mother.  _

_Her eyes were spilling tears down her cheeks as she pleaded with her husband over her son’s shoulder. “Please, you’re scaring us!” _

_“Oh, I’m scaring you?” he yelled, knocking over a lamp with a wide swing of his arm. Justin’s back was turned to his father, his face buried in his mother’s shoulder, but his entire body flinched when the lamp shattered on the floor. “Is that what it takes to get some respect in this house?” A dark look came over his father’s face as he looked down at the broken lamp, cold where his previous anger had been hot. “I think you’ve forgotten how scary I can be.”  _

_His right arm began to glow with white light, and when the light faded moments later, it had transformed into the twin barrels of a shotgun. So Justin had inherited his weapon abilities from his father, as well. But that seemed about the extent of what he’d inherited from this brute. Kid could do nothing but watch as the man raised the gun toward his wife and son. It was wavering, however, and his eyes couldn’t quite focus through the haze of booze. Frustrated that he couldn’t take aim, he fired off a shot haphazardly. It slammed into the wall above Justin’s and his mother’s heads with a deafening crack.  _

_ Justin screamed, flinching again, but his mother was still and silent, her mouth open on a cry that wouldn’t come. “Mom?” Justin whimpered. Something was clearly wrong. He drew back, and started choking on air. His hands were covered with blood, as were the blades protruding from his arms. “Mom!” Justin pleaded, but Kid could tell that the life had already left her. One of the blades had probably opened up her heart. It would have been a quick and relatively painless death.  _

_ Weapon abilities first manifested during adolescence, often at times of great stress. It was likely that this was the moment Justin had discovered what he was. _

_“What did you do, boy?!” his father hollered, staggering forward. _

_ Justin raised a bladed arm, tears streaming down his face. “S-stay away!” _

_ Sirens were wailing faintly in the distance, but they were getting louder. Justin's father seemed to gain some lucidity as he listened to them. “Go,” he said quietly.  _

_“W-what?”  _

_ “You heard me, get out!” _

_Justin scrambled to his feet, backing toward the door. “But where am I supposed to go?”  _

_“Death City,” his father answered. “There’s a school there. A special school. They’ll take a smart kid like you.”  _

_“But—“ Justin began, his eyes fixed on his mother’s body slumped in the corner.  _

_ “Just go! Now!” his father bellowed. So Justin turned and ran out into the night. “Don’t end up like me,” his father called after him. Another shotgun blast followed a few seconds later. The sound made Justin stumble, but he didn’t stop running.  _

_ Many weapons at the DWMA had tragic stories of the first time their abilities manifested. At the academy, they learned to control their abilities, and to use them to protect themselves and others. But they could never go back and repair the destruction they had already caused. That was why the academy had a policy of complete forgiveness. Any harm a weapon had unintentionally caused before enrolling was left out of their student record. Only Lord Death knew the backgrounds of the weapons at the DWMA.  _

_ It was easily Kid’s least favorite part of succeeding his father as headmaster. But he only knew the backgrounds of his current students, and none of them were quite as heart-wrenching as Justin’s. His father had known the tragedy from which Justin had come. Justin’s memory had sparked one of Kid’s own. Justin’s mother had seemed so familiar, and not just because he could see much of her in Justin. It had taken him a moment to realize that it was her soul he recognized.  _

_When Kid was seven years old, he had questioned his father about a soul that had just come into the elder shinigami’s care. “Why do good people die for no reason?” Kid had asked, examining the beautiful, pure soul in his father’s hands. “Do we really have to take their souls?”  _

_“Those are two very big questions, Kiddo,” his father had said. “This world is a chaotic place. It’s our job to maintain the balance between good and evil, but there’s a whole lot in between. Wonderful things can happen for no reason, too. And terrible things can happen that aren’t necessarily evil. This woman’s death was an accident. She was killed by the person who loved her most in all the world—by the person who was trying to protect her. Death may not happen for a reason, but it always has meaning to the living. Her death holds a lot of meaning for the son she has left behind. It will probably determine the course of his life. If we didn’t take souls like hers, we would be denying the meaning in their deaths. Do you understand?”  _

_ “I’m not sure,” Kid had replied doubtfully.  _

_ His father had leaned down to pat him on the head in the way Kid had always hated, since it ruffled his hair. “That’s alright, Kiddo. You’ve still got a lot to learn. But it’s about time I let this soul continue on its way. Don’t feel too sad about these things, Kiddo. It’s important to have compassion, but death isn’t the end of a soul's journey.”  _

_Kid and his father had watched the soul drift slowly upwards until even their keen eyes could no longer see it. Kid had smiled, then. It was a beautiful sight, after all.  _

_Now, his surroundings shifted again, and it was just him and young Justin, his hands still covered in blood, standing in the midst of a vast darkness. The voices were back, echoing all around them, but they sounded muted, distant. Justin was staring down at his hands, not even acknowledging Kid’s presence. Kid was about to speak when Justin said, “Please don’t take her away.”  _

_ Kid wasn’t sure he’d heard correctly. Justin had spoken so softly. “Take her?” _

_“If you’re here for her, you can have me instead. It was my fault. Just please don’t take her.”  _

_ “I’m not going to…” _

_ “You’re Death, aren’t you?” Justin interrupted petulantly.  _

_ Kid sighed. “I’m a friend, Justin. You know who I am.”  _

_ “How can you be my friend? I loved her so much, and you took her away from me!” He finally looked up into Kid’s eyes, accusation burning in his own.  _

_ Kid’s temper flared. He was used to his family being blamed for all of the death in the world by people who didn’t know any better, but Justin did know better. “You did that yourself, Justin,” Kid said coldly. Justin immediately broke down into tears, and Kid berated himself. He didn’t need to tell Justin what he already knew. “But it wasn’t your fault,” Kid continued in a gentler tone. “You’re one of the most selfless people I know. You’re not a monster. But if you convince yourself otherwise, if you keep reliving this memory, you might become one.” Kid had to fight back his own tears as he continued, thinking of his father now, and the part he’d played in the elder shinigami’s death. “Sometimes good people die for no reason. Not every terrible thing that happens in this world is evil. And even though your mother’s death was a purposeless accident, her death wasn’t meaningless. It’s what made you so determined to control your abilities and to use them to protect the innocent. If she were here right now, she wouldn’t blame you for her death, so how can you blame yourself? I’m sure that if she could see you now, she would be proud of you.” _

_Justin sniffed, swiping away his tears with his sleeve. “You really think so?”  _

_ “I know it. Hers was one of the kindest and purest souls I’ve ever seen. She harbored no resentment. So don’t listen to these voices. They’re wrong about you. Listen to me.” Kid knelt down and put his hands on Justin’s shoulders. “We could really use your help right now.” He leaned forward and rested his forehead against Justin’s, closing his eyes. “Please, listen to me,” he whispered.  _

Kid felt another shift, and when he opened his eyes, he was kneeling over Justin in the street, gunfire echoing all around them. No more than a minute had passed, but now, instead of cringing in anguish, Justin was looking up at him with determination in his eyes. “I’m listening,” he said. 

Kid smiled. “Good.” 

“I hate to interrupt a tender moment,” Liz yelled from further down the street, firing at a dark, winged shape in the sky, “but we could really use some help over here!” She yelped and tossed Patti backward so they could switch roles as a hail of what looked like razor-sharp feathers shot down from the sky and riddled the cobblestones with holes.  

Kid helped Justin to his feet. “Are you ready for a fight?” he asked.  

Justin put his earphones back in and turned up the volume. “Ready when you are,” he said.  

Kid quickly assessed the battlefield. Since Raptra was airborne now, their attacks needed to cover more distance, but they didn’t have to worry about any collateral damage. “Remember when we cut down half the forest at the academy?” Kid asked.  Justin nodded. Kid held out his hand. “Let’s try that again.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Justin: You must be at least a level 4 friend to unlock my tragic backstory.
> 
> Kid: *cheat code*
> 
> Justin: ...Damn.


	7. Rage and Harmony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote the fight scene listening to this remix: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qK_NeRZOdq4  
> And this one: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wlbx2XCqgeE

Their Soul Resonance was choppy when Justin took Kid’s hand. Justin was still shaken to say the least, and Kid couldn’t quite quash the guilt he felt for violating his partner’s trust, despite desperate times calling for desperate measures. But they would have to work things out between them later, if Kid even could repair the damage he’d done to their relationship. For now, an unstable resonance would have to do. 

Kid could feel the same, familiar surge of power swelling in a feedback loop between him and Justin as Justin took his scythe form. Kid flipped the Death Scythe around as they had practiced, so that Justin’s blade was facing away from him. Then Justin locked Kid’s right arm in place with a series of lunettes that materialized down the scythe’s shaft. 

Kid called out to the Thompson sisters to fall back. Raptra, who – Kid could see clearly, now – was sporting an enormous pair of grey, feathered wings, took the sisters’ retreat as an opening to attack. She dove toward them at high speed, but Kid held off his counterattack until she snapped her wings open wide to loose another hail of razor-sharp feathers. The second she spread her wings, the size of the target she presented tripled, and Kid and Justin fired Execution Gun. 

Kid knew their attacks would be difficult to control with an unstable resonance, which was why he had waited for Raptra to present a larger target. Still, the cutting blade of light went wide. Even so, it severed the tip of Raptra’s left wing, and she spiralled out of control and crashed into the side of the nearest building. 

She didn’t fall to the ground, however, but dug her talons into the mortar between the bricks, sliding down a few feet until she found a purchase. Still clinging to the side of the building with taloned feet and a taloned hand, she raised her other hand to the sky, and brought it down toward Kid and his weapons. A thick swarm of vultures descended with it from high above. Kid hadn’t noticed them before – their sooty, grey feathers had allowed them to blend in perfectly with the overcast night sky – but they had been circling above the town the entire time. Bastian had told them as much. 

The vultures descended toward him in a vortex, their numbers seemingly endless. Without much conscious thought, or perhaps Justin had done the thinking in this case, Kid raised the Death Scythe again and rather than a sharp beam of light, the blade shot a radiant blast that engulfed and turned to ash all of the vultures that came too close.  

With the hand that wasn’t shackled to the Death Scythe, Kid threw up a skull-shaped energy barrier in front of Patti and Liz.  The vultures diving at the Thompson sisters were moving too fast to change course, and broke their necks when they hit Kid’s barrier. Kid kept the barrier up, forcing the next wave of vultures to fly around it, which allowed Patti to pick them off one by one, firing Liz with the glee of a child set loose in a shooting gallery. 

But the flock was changing directions, and Patti and Liz wouldn’t be able to fend them off for long. Justin would fare better against them on his own, since his attacks could cover more area. And if Kid were wielding the twin demon pistols, he could fire off twice as many rounds in quick succession as either of them wielding the other. Through their resonance link, Kid communicated to Justin what he intended to do. Then he called out to Liz and Patti, swinging the Death Scythe over their heads to give them cover as they dashed toward him. As soon as the sisters were by his side, he brought down the barrier and let go of Justin. 

At the same time as Liz and Patti took their Death Eagle pistol forms, landing in Kid’s open palms, Justin transformed and landed on his feet behind Kid. Back to back, Kid and Justin brought down wave after wave of screeching, bloodthirsty vultures. At first, the raptors had spiraled so thickly around them that they had blacked out the sky and the surrounding buildings, forcing Kid and Justin to fight in the dark. But it didn’t take long for their numbers to diminish as more and more of them were shot or cut down.  

Soon, Kid and Justin were surrounded by carcasses, and the few vultures still alive shied away from the pair, instead turning their attention to picking fresh meat from the bones of their fallen companions. 

Raptra was nowhere to be seen. 

“Where is she?” Justin muttered, scanning the rooftops. 

“She’s still here,” said Kid. She must have reactivated her Soul Protect, but that same aura of violent madness was still thick in the air, and in Kid’s peripheral vision, the shadows seemed to congeal and run slowly down the sides of the buildings like blood. Kid blinked, and the shadows were back to normal. But the air smelled blood-drenched. It was at once nauseating and intoxicating. 

Kid had never enjoyed violence, although he accepted that it was often necessary. But now, surrounded by so much death, and silence... The aftermath of it was almost beautiful, the stillness of it almost perfect. The only disturbances were the rustling of feathers as the remaining vultures feasted, the quiet puffs of Justin’s breath, and the gentle hiss of steam rising from the barrels of the twin pistols in Kid’s hands. If they would all just be silent and still, then everything would be perfect. Kid could _make_ them be silent and still—  

Kid flipped Patti around in his hand and struck himself hard across the cheek with the pistol grip. He felt warm blood run down his face and drip from his chin, proof that even he could bleed, that he still had more in common with the living than the dead. 

“What’d you do that for, Kid?” Patti asked as Justin turned to look at him in alarm. 

“It’s bad, isn’t it?” murmured Liz. “Even I’m starting to feel it.” 

“I don’t feel anything,” said Patti.

“You’re already a special kind of crazy, Sis,” Liz told her. 

Justin looked as though he wanted to reach out and wipe the blood from Kid’s face, but his hand trembled, and he quickly let it drop. Kid ran the back of his hand across his cheek and swiped away some of the blood. Justin continued to watch him nervously as Kid stared down at the crimson streak across his pale skin. Kid grit his teeth and lowered his hands, still gripping Liz and Patti, steadily to his sides. “You’ll have to try harder than that, Raptra,” Kid called down the silent street. “Since you picked a fight with the Grim Reaper, I know you're no coward. So show yourself.”

“You’re right,” Raptra’s voice resounded softly from all around them, its source impossible to pinpoint. It was as though she were everywhere and nowhere at once. “Watching from the shadows while you send your disciples to do your dirty work is more _your_ style, reaper.” Justin visibly bristled at that, but Kid didn’t so much as flinch. Few people knew the lengths his father had gone to to protect this world, nor the things Kid had done and would do to keep it safe. Few ever would. It didn’t matter.   

“But it’s time you reap what you sow,” Raptra snarled, this time from close behind Kid. She appeared in front of Justin in a flurry of dark feathers and lunged at him, talons poised to kill. But no one could catch Justin off guard twice. Justin blocked her attack with both arms crossed in an X in front of his chest, and Kid heard Raptra’s talons clank against metal. Before she could recover, Justin shoved her back and immediately lashed out at her with blades extended from both arms.

Raptra leapt high into the air to avoid the sweeping arc of Justin’s attack, which put her right in Kid’s sights as he spun on his heel and fired half a dozen rounds into her chest. With a harpy’s screech, she was sent flying back down the street, but she landed deftly on her feet with a sweep of her enormous wings. 

Justin gripped his left arm with a quiet hiss. When he let go, his hand came away bloody. Raptra’s talons had sliced open his sleeve in three places, and beneath were three deep gashes. Kid exchanged a glance with Justin, and Justin nodded. Then Kid fired six more shots at Raptra, but she dodged each one as she rushed back up the street toward them. As soon as she was close enough, Kid tossed Liz and Patti up into the air behind him, and caught Justin with both hands as he reverted to his scythe form. With the Death Scythe, Kid blocked the taloned hand that shot out toward his chest. He then spun the scythe, forcing Raptra either to snatch her hand back or lose it. Meanwhile, Liz laid down covering fire, forcing Raptra to leap back and furl her wings around her like a shield. Her feathers were tough as steel, and seemed to deflect most of the shots.  

Kid had not anticipated one important factor in this fight: switching Soul Resonances between two sets of weapons was tiring. He had to adjust his own soul wavelength to accommodate the differences in Liz’s, Patti’s and Justin’s. Maintaining a balance between Liz’s and Patti’s wavelengths had long become second nature to Kid, but it still required a certain amount of energy and concentration. And switching between the Thompson sisters and Justin, whose wavelength was much more powerful and, currently, more volatile, put a great deal of strain on Kid’s soul, like bending a piece of metal back and forth too many times. Kid was already panting, and it had nothing to do with physical exertion. 

Without warning, Raptra threw out her wings, sending a barrage of feathers flying like daggers in all directions. What little time Kid had to react, he used to throw up another energy barrier in front of Liz and Patti. Four feathers the size of bread knives slammed into his chest, others slicing his arms and legs as they whizzed by him. He just managed to evade one flying right at his face, turning his head so it only clipped his ear. Kid looked down at the steely feathers embedded in his chest, one worryingly close to his heart, and felt warm blood bubble up in his throat. He coughed up a spray of scarlet, and the contraction of his diaphragm sent pain shooting through his wounds like electricity.  

The energy barrier in front of the Thompson sisters flickered, but Kid kept it up as Liz furiously returned fire from behind it. But Raptra was advancing on them again, one wing held out in front of her to deflect the shots. “Kid, are you alright?” Patti called out from her weapon form. 

Kid coughed up more blood, but managed a raspy “I’m fine, don’t worry about me.” 

Raptra chuckled. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that.” Kid looked up in alarm. She continued, “My feathers bear a potent necrotic curse. Just one slice is enough to kill a human in minutes. How many did you take?”

Kid’s worried frown relaxed into a slight smile. “You really think necromancy can harm a shinigami? I see now why the Witches’ Council didn’t want you to lead them.” He laughed, wiping the blood from his lips with the back of his hand. “You’re just not very bright.” 

Raptra’s step faltered, and Liz would have shot her feet out from under her if she hadn’t leapt high into the air to avoid the blast. She sent another wave of feathers raining down on them, but this time Kid managed to keep the Thompson sisters shielded as well as deflect the projectiles heading for him by spinning Justin around in a blur of steel above his head. As he did so, Justin’s blade began to glow a hot white, and when Raptra landed, Kid slashed the Death Scythe through the air in front of him, and the slash of white light shot down the street toward her, cleaving the cobblestones all along its path. Raptra tried to leap out of the way, but wasn’t fast enough to keep most of her left wing from being severed by the searing light. She screamed, a cry full of pain and murderous rage. 

Kid used her momentary distraction to pull the sharp feathers out of his torso, quickly wrapping his hand in a strip of fabric from his jacket so he wouldn’t slice open his palms in the process. He would lose more blood by removing them, but once they were out, his body could begin healing itself. And it wouldn’t do to remain in such close proximity to cursed objects for very long. 

_“Are you really going to be alright?”_ Kid heard Justin ask over their resonance link as he pulled out the final feather with a pained gasp.  

 _“Honestly, I’ve never found myself on the wrong side of a necrosis curse before,”_ Kid replied. _“But I should be fine. My father always said confidence is half the battle.”_  

Justin laughed nervously. _“He told me the same thing.”_

Raptra came at them head-on, and they continued the fight up close, blocking her talons and spells and trying to land another hit, preferably clean through her neck. Meanwhile Liz ran around behind her, keeping her under fire so that she was forced to use her remaining wing as a shield against the gunfire and not as a weapon against Kid and Justin. Despite the immediate danger they were in, Kid couldn’t resist asking, _“Oh, is_ that _why you teased Giriko incessantly whenever you crossed blades?”_

Justin was immediately flustered. _“Our abilities were well-matched. I had fun fighting him. But I couldn’t stand him as a person, in case you’re implying that I was fraternizing with the enemy to a greater extent than was strictly necessary to the completion of my mission.”_

_“I wasn’t implying anything,”_ Kid replied innocently as one of his swings opened up a long gash down the side of Raptra’s ribs. She responded by sweeping her wing around to whip up a powerful gust of wind that sent Kid flying backward a dozen yards through the air, but he turned a flip as he fell, landing in a crouch with the Death Scythe held out to the side.

_“I’m not sure I believe you,”_ Justin responded. Kid actually laughed aloud. Until Justin continued, _“Anyway, I wasn’t talking about the curse. You should have been able to defend yourself_ and _the Thompson sisters against that attack. Something’s affecting you. I can feel it.”_

Of course Justin could sense something was off. Any abnormalities in their resonance would be immediately apparent to the Death Scythe. Kid lashed out at Raptra with his Death Claw attack, sending six shadowy, serpentine, skull-tipped tendrils racing out from his cloak toward the witch, teeth first. Kid was trying to pin her down, but she was too quick, evading the first few tendrils and slicing through the rest with her talons. Kid answered Justin’s unvoiced question. _“Switching between weapons puts stress on my soul wavelength that I didn’t anticipate.”_  

Kid could feel Justin’s worry, but the Death Scythe’s voice was nothing but steady resolve. _“Then let’s finish this quickly.”_

As Raptra leapt forward to lunge at Kid with talons extended, Kid allowed the darkness to coalesce around him, shrouding him like his reaper’s cloak, and when Raptra struck out at him, her talons passed through nothing but shadow. She whirled around to find Kid standing right behind her. He brought the glowing Death Scythe down on her like a flash of lightning, and she just barely raised her hands in time to catch the blade inches from her face. Her scaly hands were shockingly tough, tough enough to halt the blade. But as the holy light radiating from Justin’s blade brightened, it began to sear through Raptra’s steely scales until the flesh beneath fizzled, giving off wisps of black, acrid smoke.The light only grew brighter, until even Kid had to avert his eyes, and then Raptra was thrown back by a brilliant blast. 

She skidded to a halt at the end of the street, her hands blackened and twitching, her hair and feathers singed. Her eyes were bleeding. They darted around blindly for a second, and then she closed them tightly. Her jaw dropped wide open, then broke with a sickening crack as a black, serrated beak forced its way out of her mouth. More steely feathers seemed to split her skin from within as they covered her entire body, bristling menacingly. She opened her beak and screeched. 

Windows shattered, raining glass down into the street as the wave of sound raced toward them. It slammed into Kid like a gale force wind, pushing him back. The high-pitched screech rang in his ears, even more piercing than Crona and Ragnarok’s scream resonance, jumbling his thoughts. The agony lasted only a moment, however, before Kid heard the background beat of Justin’s music swell in his mind and cancel out the shrillest peaks with low thrums of bass. Kid regained his focus just in time to see Raptra’s feathers bristle as she raised her remaining wing in preparation for a spin that would send more feathers flying in all directions. 

“Liz! Patti!” Kid called out.

The Thompson sisters had been keeping their distance, firing at long range, but Kid knew it would be easier to protect them from Raptra’s lethal feather attacks if he were wielding them. Justin could deflect projectiles on his own with his blade, but as projectile weapons themselves, the twin demon pistols couldn’t take down more projectiles than they could fire, and it wouldn’t be enough.

Liz had stopped firing Patti altogether when Raptra’s screech hit them, but she looked up with gritted teeth at the sound of Kid’s voice. She didn’t waste a beat. As Raptra began to spin, Liz tossed Patti in a high arc toward Kid, then followed her sister in a flash of pink light. Kid let go of Justin and raised another large, skull-shaped energy barrier between him and Raptra a split second before a barrage of feathers slammed into it. Justin landed in a crouch as Kid caught Liz and Patti in their weapon forms, the barrier shielding them all from Raptra’s assault. 

As soon as Raptra fell silent and feathers stopped flying, Kid and Justin raced toward her down either side of the street, flanking her. Justin’s searing light had blinded her, and her head whipped to either side as she heard them coming, but couldn’t get a fix on their locations. Kid hit her with a barrage of bullets, and Justin with his Saint Cross Knife attack, but her new coat of feathers acted as full-body armor. They would need to hit her harder. 

Kid began channeling the power for a bigger attack, but his soul was fatigued, and the response was sluggish. When the wind picked up and began to swirl around him and his feet lifted off the ground, Raptra zeroed in on the sound and lunged at him faster than he’d seen her move before, slashing her wing right across his abdomen. Kid fell, stumbling backward into the wall of a nearby building, clutching the wound. He blinked, and Justin was in front of him, fending off Raptra’s next attack and driving her back with a series of vicious slashes. “I have an idea,” Justin called over his shoulder, just dodging out of the way as Raptra snapped at him with her sharp beak. “Are you up for one more switch?” 

Kid didn’t know what Justin had in mind, but he trusted his partners implicitly—all three of them. _“Let us at the witch,”_ Liz growled. 

Kid smiled, despite the pain. “Ready when you are,” he said. 

As Raptra struck out with her talons, Justin’s form vanished from between them in an arc of blue light. Kid tossed Liz and Patti high above Raptra’s head, and Patti flipped in mid-air to catch Liz in her weapon form, firing all the way down Raptra’s unguarded back. Patti landed across the street, and while Raptra screamed in animal fury and tried to lunge at her assailant, she couldn’t catch what she couldn’t see, and Patti kept firing and dancing gleefully out of striking range. 

Kid didn’t let Raptra stay focused on Patti and Liz for long. His grip tightening around the Death Scythe’s shaft, he launched himself off the wall, swinging the scythe at just the right moment to open a long gash up Raptra’s spine. Then he was on the defensive again, having regained Raptra’s full attention.  

_“What’s the plan?”_ he asked over the resonance link, blocking and slashing as Raptra began to back him toward the wall once more. 

_“I think I can get my music to work in the way that Soul’s piano does,”_ Justin explained. _“If we resonate in harmony rather than matching each other’s wavelengths, it ought to relieve the strain on your soul, and the four of us should be able to achieve a chain resonance, even with only one meister. As long as your wavelength is the melody.”_  

The theory was sound. More than that—it was brilliant. _“Let’s try it!”_ Kid responded.   

He heard Justin’s music swell once more, shifting into a fast-tempo, four-part harmony. Kid picked out the melody and let his soul wavelength fall into the pattern naturally; it was easy, like playing his part in Soul’s compositions was easy. But this time, he was leading. Justin took up the bass line, and Kid felt the strain on his soul ease. He reached out for the familiar warmth of Liz and Patti’s souls, and when they heard the music, they understood their parts. Liz took the steady alto line, and Patti the soaring soprano notes, and just like that, the four of them were resonating together. 

Kid heard Patti’s joyous laughter over the Harmony Resonance, and he heard Liz say, _“Let’s gut this bird.”_

Now, they fought with perfectly coordinated attacks, and blinded as Raptra was, she had no hope of keeping up. As the song crescendoed, so did their power, and Liz and Patti’s shots began to blast gaping holes through Raptra’s remaining wing, while Justin’s searing white blade cut deep gouges through Raptra’s feathers, rending the flesh beneath.  

Raptra let loose a blood-curdling scream, her rage boiling over into a powerful wave of madness that burst from her like an explosion. But Justin’s music surrounded all of their souls like sunlight, banishing Raptra’s viscous, asphyxiating wrath with ease. Kid finally felt secure enough in the strength of his soul to draw on his own madness—just enough to finish the fight. He had his partners to keep him back from the brink.  

“Raptra!” he called as tendrils of shadow began to swirl around them, striking like snakes. Five open coffins rose up from the shadows and started rotating in the other direction, effectively blocking all possible escape routes. “You have disrupted the balance of life and death, stolen souls from my care. The price you will pay to restore the balance will be your soul. The punishment for your crimes—death.” 

As the song reached its climax and Kid’s vision greyed out as he let the Madness of Order take hold of him, he locked eyes with Raptra. Her now-avian eyes were streaming with enraged tears of blood, and she loosed another glass-shattering screech up at the sky, unable to take flight with her bloodied, broken wings and flee into the night.  

Kid barely heard her. He raised his Death Scythe, and the blade lengthened in both directions, its glow taking on brilliant rainbow hues. Kid recognized the attack, although he had never produced it himself until now. Kishin Hunter. 

It was all over with one swing. One moment Raptra’s eyes were fixed on his in all-consuming rage, and the next, they were blank. Her body went flying back into one of the coffins, which in turn slammed back against the wall of one of the far buildings. Kid caught just a glimpse of her head tumbling forward off her shoulders before the coffin lid slammed shut. 

Kid felt his feet touch the ground once more as color returned to the world. He released Justin, who returned to his human form and fell into step behind Kid as he approached the coffin. Liz and Patti looked on with morbid curiosity.  

When Kid raised his hand, a fiery red soul arose from the black and white coffin and hovered in the air above it, spitting hostile energy off its surface. Carefully, Kid reached out and grasped it, caging it in his fingers. It calmed slightly at his touch, but continued to roil with simmering anger. He tucked the soul away inside his cloak for safekeeping. As he did so, tendrils of shadow rose up around the sides of the coffin and pulled it down into the earth. When the shadows retreated, there was no trace left of the witch Raptra. 


	8. A Home in the House of Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think there's going to be just one more chapter after this to tie things up. But this one's extra loooong.

As soon as Raptra’s body disappeared, Kid let out a quiet sigh of relief, and then grimaced. His wounds were healing quickly, but the residue from the curse left his skin feeling tingly and strange. Worse than that, when he looked down at himself to take stock of his injuries, he also noticed the deplorable state he was in. His clothes were torn and bloodied in an awful, asymmetrical fashion. He felt vaguely ill. 

Liz gave him a mildly sympathetic look. “It’s your own fault for wearing a fancy suit to a fight.” She stepped in closer to look him up and down, concern written across her features.

Kid attempted to shoo her away with only mild success. “I’ll be fine. I’m immortal.”

“That’s no reason to get yourself stabbed a shit ton of times,” she reprimanded him.

“Better me than you,” he said, and Liz fell uncomfortably quiet. “Are you all alright?” Kid asked his partners. The three of them nodded. “Let me see your arm, Justin.”

Justin pulled up his sleeve and held out his left arm. Three deep gashes ran all the way down from his elbow to his wrist. It was bad, but it looked like a normal wound, at least. Justin grit his teeth as Kid ran his fingers delicately down the length of the lacerations. Kid muttered an apology, but didn’t take his hand away until he was satisfied with his examination. “I don’t sense any lingering magic,” said Kid. “It makes sense that if Raptra was using those talons to tear out souls, she wouldn’t want them to damage her prize with harmful magic. But you should ask Naigus to give this another look when we get back.”

Liz smirked. “Now who’s the mother hen, hm?”

Before Kid could get properly flustered, Patti cocked her head inquisitively and said, “Hey Justin, if you turn into a zombie, will you be a nice zombie like Sid? Or d’you think you’d try to eat people?”

Justin pretended to give the matter a moment of serious consideration. “Well, under normal circumstances it would go against the oaths of my order if I went around trying to eat innocent people. But since I’ve only sworn to serve Death until Death claims me, if I were undead, maybe I’d be in the clear.”

“Not in my book,” Kid said, manifesting a shadowy facsimile of his Book of Names above his open hand menacingly, before he cracked a smile and let the phantasmal book disappear.

Justin laughed nervously. “Point taken.” 

The four of them returned to the church to let the pastor know that the town was safe. As they walked, Kid pulled his mask down over his face once more, and swept his cloak around himself, magically repairing his suit with more of the shadow-cloth from which it was made. The day he let a member of the public see him in anything less than pristine condition was the day he no longer deserved the title of Grim Reaper. 

Bastian hauled open the heavy wooden doors after Justin knocked just once. He looked as if he hadn’t gotten another wink of sleep since they had left him over an hour ago. _“You’ve returned!”_ he said, moved to tears of joy. _“I tried to keep watch from the bell tower, but all I saw was that black cloud of vultures descend from the sky. The witch, is she...dead?”_

Kid inclined his head. Justin said, _“She’s dead. The town can sleep peacefully tonight.”_

Bastian shook his head. _“They have not slept peacefully since Mina was killed. I must let them know that the shadow of death has passed us over.”_ He looked to Kid and backpedaled. _“Er, please pardon the expression, Lord Death.”_ Then a kind of resolve came over him, and he said more firmly, _“Actually, the people of this town should know to whom they owe their safety.”_

Kid took a startled step back. _“That’s probably not a good idea,”_ he said. _“I normally work...”_ He trailed off, remembering Raptra’s biting accusation. He had been about to say ‘in the shadows.’ Instead he finished hesitantly, _“...out of the public eye.”_

_“Of course, my Lord’s will be done,”_ Bastian replied, bowing humbly. _“If you do not wish anyone to know of your involvement here, no one will know. But...this church, despite my best efforts... Well, I am losing parishioners. There is so much for humanity to learn from your philosophy, but we are only human, and our anxiety over our own mortality may never cease, which makes death... I think the English expression is_ ‘a hard sell.’”

Kid exchanged a glance with Justin. _“So I’ve heard.”_

_“That anxiety, however, it only increases with ignorance. People don’t know what it is you really do. They don’t understand that you maintain the balance of life and death in order to_ preserve life _—in this world and the next. Yet here you were tonight, in our town, taking one life to preserve many more. If the people here only knew that you walked among us this night, that you slew the predator amidst the flock, that you truly are the shepherd of our souls…”_ Bastian sighed. _“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to deliver a sermon.”_

_“I appreciate the thought, Bastian,”_ Kid replied. _“Really, I do. But I don’t perform my duties as a shinigami for the thanks it gets me.”_

_“No, I should think your work is pretty thankless,”_ said Bastian. _“I just find the thought of you disappearing into the night with no one but me to remember that you were ever here…deeply saddening. For once, would you not rather be celebrated than feared?”_

Kid had resigned himself to being misunderstood throughout the world when he was quite young. It didn’t bother him as much as it used to. But understanding was still something he quietly longed for. He found it in his friends, which was a large part of why he cherished them so dearly. But for complete strangers not to immediately assume the worst of him? He couldn’t say it wasn’t an appealing notion. And hadn’t he just been considering earlier that night taking on a more ambassadorial role in the world than his father had been able to? 

_“Of course I don’t want to be feared,”_ Kid said, finally. _“But what I want shouldn’t matter. There has to be room for people to live their lives according to their own values. I can’t be seen to be too involved.”_ Kid knew now that his perfect world would be no paradise, but a purgatory of perfection. The world needed a healthy dose of human chaos to truly be _alive_. 

_“If you can’t be seen…”_ Bastian began thoughtfully. _“Then allow me to tell the story of this night. You need not reveal your presence here. All the people will have will be the story, and they may choose to believe it or not. That is, after all, what faith is.”_

Kid considered Bastian’s proposal for a moment, and smiled, behind his mask. _“That sounds fair enough. It’s not like I can stop you from telling stories.”_

Bastian grinned. _“I think you will be pleased.”_

Patti yawned widely, transparently bored with a conversation she couldn’t understand. Liz elbowed her in the side, but only earned a dirty look from her younger sister. 

_“Oh, but your companions must be tired!”_ Bastian exclaimed. _“You traveled a long way to get here, and you have a long return journey ahead of you. Please, allow me to accommodate you all here. You may take the rest of the night and the daylight hours to rest, then take your leave tomorrow night. In the meantime, I can see to any injuries your companions might have sustained, and provide them with a hearty meal.”_

Bastian was definitely now under the impression that Kid didn’t eat or sleep at all. To his credit, Kid didn’t _need_ to do either, but he very much preferred to. Still, he would feel silly now if Bastian caught him dozing or snacking. Kid resigned himself to a long day ahead, but he knew Liz, Patti and Justin could use the time to recuperate. _“That is very kind of you, Bastian. I think we would be glad to take you up on your offer, as long as it’s no imposition.”_

_“None at all! As I said, this is your house. I am merely its keeper,”_ said Bastian with another bow. _“If you’ll excuse me for a moment, I will sound the all-clear and then see to your needs.”_

With a nod from Kid, Bastian turned and swept down the aisle, his black robes billowing behind him as he made his way to the spiral staircase beside the apse, and disappeared up the stairs. As Kid and Justin filled Liz and Patti in on what had been discussed, the peals of a deep, reverberant church bell sounded through the rafters, and doubtless were heard throughout the town, cascading down the hill and into the valley below. The bell struck thirteen times. 

Shortly after the final chime, Kid heard footfalls rapidly descending the stairs that were lighter and more limber than Bastian’s. When he looked toward the stairwell, he saw a young man with ruddy hair emerge dressed in pure white robes and a pair of wooly slippers. He skidded across the timeworn flagstones and froze when he saw Kid. 

_“I-it_ is _you!”_ he stuttered. “ _You came back! Father told me not to get involved, but I couldn’t just—”_ He clapped a hand over his mouth, as if he might physically contain his excitement that way, and dropped into a bow so low it looked frankly ridiculous. _“Sorry! I’m Frederick,”_ he said to his slippers.

_“I do handshakes,”_ Kid offered genially, holding out his hand. Frederick eyed Kid’s offered hand warily before edging forward and giving it a cautious shake. Kid attempted to introduce himself as pleasantly as possible. _“It’s nice to meet you, Frederick. I’m Death.”_

Frederick nodded. _“Yes, I know. Erm, I mean, I thought so, given the…”_ He gestured vaguely toward his own face. _“…The skull.”_

_“Frederick!”_ Bastian called out from the bottom of the stairs, his arms full of bedrolls and blankets. Frederick leapt about a foot in the air.

_“Sorry, Father!”_ Frederick said sheepishly, again to his slippers. _“But you can’t expect me to stay shut up in my room on a night such as this!”_

Bastian sighed. _“Well, now that you’re up and about, you might as well make yourself useful and help me see to our guests. You can start by fetching the medical supplies to bandage Brother Justin’s arm. He’s bleeding on the floor.”_

Justin looked down at the blood-spattered flagstones as if he hadn’t noticed, and clutched his injured arm more tightly to his chest. _“Sorry about the mess,”_ he said. 

_“It’s quite alright. This old church has seen its share of blood,”_ said Bastian. Frederick scampered off to do as the pastor said. _“You just go sit down at the table in the chapel where the lamps are brightest, and Frederick will be over to see you in a minute.”_

_“What can we do to help?”_ Kid asked. 

Bastian laughed heartily. _“You have helped us plenty this night! But if you wish, you can set up the bedding to your liking, and I will get started in the kitchen.”_

Kid and the Thompson sisters took the bedrolls and blankets from Bastian – only three sets, Kid noted – and rolled them out in the South transept, which was lined with bookshelves full of old tomes written in German and many other European languages, all on the subject of the Death Gods. Kid was curious as to their accuracy, but didn’t want to insult the pastor’s library by pointing out any errors. He decided he wouldn’t take the risk of browsing through the titles. Instead, he took the time to appreciate the church’s beautiful architecture, which he hadn’t allowed himself to be distracted by earlier. It was incredibly ornate in the gothic style, and yet perfectly bilaterally symmetrical. 

Above the entryway, the stained glass rose window had been crafted to look like an enormous clock, and above it was carved the figure of a cloaked skeleton, an open book in one hand, the words _Memento mori_ scrawled across its pages, and a scythe in the other, its blade lowered menacingly over the face of the stained glass clock, and the heads of anyone entering or leaving the church. 

Kid frowned, but from a quick examination of the other grimly evocative motifs in the architecture, of other Latin phrases inscribed in the stone and ghoulish scenes depicted in the stained glass windows, he realized that this church had been built at the time of the Black Plague—or the Black Death, as many had called it. His father hadn’t told him many stories from those dark years, but Kid knew enough. His father had been deeply saddened by the multitude of souls crossing through his domain each day and night, but he had been relieved to provide them with a release from their suffering in the mortal world. Still, many mortals had believed the plague was a form of retribution, that they had angered Death in some way, and so death was their due. It was easier to believe that, in times of great strife, there was a reason for all of the suffering, some antagonistic figure that was the cause of it all. The truth, that the world is an inherently chaotic place in which most things happen for no reason at all, had always been harder to swallow, even for Death himself.

Liz walked over to where Kid was standing and followed his gaze up to the ominous clock. She shuddered, but to Kid’s surprise, she laid a warm hand on his shoulder. “Boy, am I glad your dad grew out of _that_ phase,” she said.

Kid chuckled. “Me, too.”

“D’you think one day there will be a statue of you and us somewhere?” Patti said from within an impromptu blanket cocoon. 

“Father made the scythe pretty iconic,” Kid said doubtfully. “I’m guessing it’ll take centuries for my image to replace his in the popular imagination.” 

Liz made a face. “I can’t imagine you that old.”

“That’s not old for a shinigami,” said Kid, feigning offense.

“Does that mean you’re still just a baby in reaper years?” Patti asked innocently. 

Liz snorted. “Good one, Sis,” she snickered into her hand. 

Kid narrowed his eyes at the younger Thompson sister. “I’m not the one currently swaddled in blankets,” he said. 

Patti stuck out her tongue at him. Kid quickly glanced around to be sure none of his acolytes were watching before lifting his mask and responding in kind. Liz rolled her eyes and said, “You realize you’re just proving Patti’s point, right?” But Patti giggled and wrapped Kid up in a warm, blanketed hug.

“I’m glad you’re not a scary skeleton,” she said. 

As they finished laying down the blankets, which mostly involved Kid and Liz coaxing Patti out of her blanket cocoon first, Kid couldn’t help but listen in on the conversation Justin and Frederick were having in hushed tones over in the chapel as Frederick bandaged Justin’s arm. 

_“It looks like you were mauled by a tiger,”_ Frederick said, with the slightly inappropriate enthusiasm that Kid was beginning to think was just a part of his personality. Frederick seemed to catch himself, though, because in a softer tone he asked, _“Does it hurt?”_

_“Of course it hurts,”_  said Justin. _“I’m not made of metal most of the time. But I’m used to getting hurt on the job. It’s dangerous work. That’s something you should know. Even if you don’t work directly for the academy, just joining Death’s order can make you a target for the corrupt forces of this world. It’s something to remember as you’re deciding whether or not to take the vows.”_

_“Yeesh, you sound like my father,”_ Frederick grumbled. _“I’ve already made my decision. I’m going to take the vows. The only reason I’ve waited so long is because Father insists on waiting until I’m eighteen to administer them. My birthday is in July. After that, I will finally be a true member of the order.”_

_“Your father sounds like a good man,”_ said Justin. 

_“He does his best. He never planned to have a kid, but I was left on the steps of this church as a baby, and he took me in. I used to think it was strange that everyone else called him Father, too,”_ said Frederick, with a smile in his voice.

_“So you never knew your birth parents?”_ Justin asked.

_“No. But I like to think they might still be living in town, watching me grow up. That I might pass them in the street everyday, without even knowing it. I prefer to believe that my mother had a good reason for giving me up. Not knowing…makes it easier to believe the best.”_ Frederick’s voice had gone distant, but after a pause, he seemed to pull himself out of his reverie. _“But I’m boring; I want to hear more about you! You don’t look much older than me. How old were you when you took the vows?”_

_“Oh, I knew at thirteen that this was my path.”_

Frederick whistled. _“I didn’t even know whether I liked weisswurst or not at thirteen. How did you know you wanted to be a priest?”_

_“Well, I had a close experience with death as a child,”_ said Justin. _“It took me some time to make sense of it, but thanks to my time as a student at the DWMA, I came to see just how important it is that life and death exist in balance, and that there is some order to the chaos of this world. Anything I could do to help Lord Death ensure that the souls of the living and the dead were safeguarded, that was what I wanted to dedicate my life to. It’s the same reason I wanted to become a Death Scythe. But I never really dared hope that one day I would be chosen to fight at Death’s side.”_

Frederick’s voice dropped to a whisper, which Kid probably wouldn’t have been able to pick up had he been human. _“So, what’s it like being the instrument of Death?”_

There was a beat of silence. _“Well, it’s a full time job,”_ said Justin, finally.

_“Ha. I’ll bet,”_ said Frederick. _“But seriously, what’s it like? What’s_ he _like?”_

_“I was being serious,”_ said Justin. _“I live with him, you know. It’s not just about being his weapon. It’s about being his partner, and supporting him on and off the battlefield. That’s what any good meister/weapon partnership is. Liz and Patti have a lot more experience than I do in that regard. I’ve never had a meister before, so I’m still getting used to working in a team. But with Lord Death, it’s... Well, it’s the culmination of everything I’ve worked for ever since I decided my life had a purpose. Or maybe it’s just the beginning, I’m not sure. I’ll admit it’s…quite different from what I would have expected.”_

_“You mean he’s different than you expected?”_

_“Yes, I suppose so,”_ said Justin sheepishly. _“Sometimes when we’re talking, I almost forget who I’m talking to. In some ways of course, he’s unlike anything else in this world. But in others, he’s a lot like you or me.”_

Kid felt too uncomfortable to continue eavesdropping, now that they were talking about him. He turned back to Liz and answered the question she had voiced a moment ago. “No, I doubt this place has central heating.”

“It’s cold as death in here,” Liz complained. 

“I’m right here,” Kid said flatly.

Liz didn’t bother to respond. Instead she pulled up one of the blankets that Kid had just spent the past few minutes aligning perfectly with the bedrolls and smoothing all of the creases out of, and wrapped it petulantly around her shoulders. “Yay!” Patti exclaimed, and promptly reclaimed her blanket as well. 

Kid sighed deeply, but inwardly, he was glad that the sisters were acting their usual selves. He always tried to protect them to the extent that he could in a fight, but he didn’t often think about what it would be like to lose them. Tonight, it would have been so easy. If either of them had sustained just a scratch from one of Raptra’s cursed feathers... Well, he was now even more grateful to have Justin as part of their team. With any luck, they would all be able to look out for each other, as they had tonight.

It wasn’t much longer until Bastian finished preparing the meal, and they all sat down to eat around an old wooden table in the cellar, Liz and Patti still bundled in their blankets. The food—a spicy curry, roast potatoes, sausages and biscuits—was humble but hearty, and it smelled delicious. Bastian offered Kid the seat at the head of the table, where there was no place setting. Kid accepted the seat graciously, and resolved not to look too put out. It was entirely his fault for playing into Bastian’s assumptions just to keep up appearances. Besides, eating would necessitate taking off his mask, something his father had never done in anyone’s company but Kid’s, and even then, less and less as Kid grew older. Everyone in Death City already knew Kid’s face, but now that he had taken up his father’s duties, he felt he should at least wear the mask outside city limits. And while Kid was tall for his age and well-spoken, his face betrayed how young he still was. Assumptions about his shinigami nature, he didn’t mind so much. Assumptions about his experience and capability, he would mind a lot more.

_“This occasion warrants a feast,”_ said Bastian, taking the seat at the other end of the table after everyone else was seated. _“I apologize. This is the best I could do with what we had.”_

_“You’ve already done so much, and you’ve been nothing but generous,”_ said Kid. _“I’m sure my partners will appreciate the hot meal.”_

Frederick looked surprised, however, that Kid wasn’t taking part. _“You don’t eat?”_ he asked.

Bastian swatted his son lightly across the back of the head. _“Of course he doesn’t. He’s a divine being.”_

Frederick rubbed his head, more embarrassed than annoyed. Still, his curiosity wasn’t diminished. _“Do you eat souls?”_ he asked. 

His father looked about ready to stuff a napkin in Frederick’s mouth, but Kid’s laughter put the pastor more at ease. _“No, only weapons and the occasional crazed witch eat souls,”_ Kid replied. _“I don’t need to eat anything, really. It’s not like I’m going to starve to death.”_

Frederick laughed, too. _“No, I suppose not. You’re missing out, though. If Father hadn’t been called to the Church, he might have been a chef.”_

Kid’s smile probably looked forced. Another good reason for the mask. _“I don’t doubt it; the food looks delicious. I hope no one’s waiting on me.”_

_“Well, normally we would say a prayer before the meal,”_ said Bastian, wringing his napkin nervously. _“But since you’re here with us, I’ll just say this: Thank you, Lord Death, for keeping life and death in balance, so that life may flourish in this world, and our souls find their rightful place in the next.”_

Kid blushed deeply, now even more grateful for his mask than before. Wordlessly, because there weren’t the words to respond to such sincere gratitude and faith, Kid dipped his head. And the meal commenced in earnest. Patti immediately began shoveling food onto her plate, and then into her mouth—Kid was still mystified how such a small girl could have such a monstrous appetite. Justin ate more gingerly—in part because his injured arm was now suspended in a makeshift linen sling—and chatted with Bastian and Frederick about affairs of their order, and news from their continental intelligence network. Meanwhile, Liz decided to flirt with Frederick across the table, but mostly only succeeded in making the poor boy nervous. When she took an interest in someone, it tended to come across as vaguely predatory. After a while, however, Frederick seemed to warm up to her somewhat, speaking with her in heavily accented English, and even chancing a smile every so often. 

His font of questions for Kid, however, seemed endless. _“How do you know which names ought to be on your list?”_ he asked.

_“That is a holy mystery,”_ Bastian scolded him, although the pastor looked no less curious than his son once the question had been voiced.

_“It doesn’t have to be,”_ said Kid. _“I can sense when a soul is parted from its body before its time, or withheld by unnatural means from crossing over. And I can sense which souls are responsible for such crimes. The names of those criminals are the ones I write in my book to mark them for death. Of those names, any marks that don’t require my personal attention, I distribute regularly to members of the academy in the form of a list.”_

_“Like a hit list, yes?”_ Frederick asked, absolutely enraptured with what Kid considered administrative details.

Kid had never thought of it quite like that, however. _“If you like,”_ he replied.

_“So our witch required your personal attention, then.”_

_“Yes.”_

After that, Frederick needled him persistently until Kid gave in and briefly recounted the events of their battle with Raptra. When he had put the final nail in the coffin, so to speak, Frederick thumped the table in excitement and exclaimed, _“That’s badass!”_

_“Language,”_ Bastian and Justin both scolded.

Frederick put his hands up. _“I’m sorry, but it’s true.”_ Kid had hardly finished answering that line of questioning when Frederick launched into another. _“Hey, is it true you were once the meister of the Holy Sword Excalibur?”_

Kid made a face behind his mask. _“I’d rather not talk about it.”_

_“Oh, sorry,”_ said Frederick bashfully. _“I don’t mean to bombard you. It’s just, from what I know of it so far, being a priest means having a lot of questions and not a lot of answers. With the exception of Justin I suppose, most of them never get the opportunity to have their questions answered. Not that that’s a bad thing, necessarily. My father raised me on stories about you.”_

_“They were probably about my father,”_ said Kid. 

_“No, they were about you! About how even Lord Death himself had a brilliant and compassionate son who would one day take up his father’s duties and keep the darkness of this world at bay. I’m sure he was not-so-subtly hinting at something to do with me taking over the church from him when I’m older.”_ Frederick exchanged a meaningful look with his father, who started wringing his napkin in his hands again. _“But those stories really inspired me. I wanted to be just like you. I still do,”_ he said, his cheeks tingeing pink.

This was all getting to be a little too much for Kid. He wasn’t an attention-seeker like Black Star. It was as Raptra had said—he operated in the shadows. And it suited him. In Death City, of course, things were a little different. There, he was a public figure, more like a mayor than a god. People came to him with their troubles, smiled and waved to him in the streets, bought him coffee on occasion. He was so used to the people there treating him like he was one of them, he could almost let himself forget that someday all of their souls, and their children’s souls, and their children’s children’s souls would slip through his fingers like so many grains of sand through an hourglass. He never gave much thought to how extraordinary he must seem to the rest of the world, or at least to those who believed he actually existed, that he wasn’t simply a legend, some anthropomorphic figure representing one of the great cosmic forces. 

But that wasn’t what Frederick was saying, Kid realized. Frederick was telling him that he saw Kid as a role model first, a “divine being” second. To him, Kid was someone whose example could be followed, whose ideals were in some way attainable. If anything, Frederick was more like the people of Death City than an outsider. And as Kid considered what he already knew about the young man—his unwavering resolve to follow the path that he knew was right, despite not knowing all that it entailed; a father who had plenty of stories for him, but ones that left him with more questions than answers; his bold inquisitiveness in seeking those answers for himself; his desire to take up his father’s duties as shepherd of the townspeople’s souls when his father was gone…

_“We have more in common than you might think,”_ Kid said, finally. 

Frederick beamed. _“Really?”_

Liz sighed and dropped her chin into her hand, gazing sideways at Kid with a defeated look. “Do all the good-looking guys in this order of yours have crushes on you, or is this a sample size issue here?”

Justin nearly choked on the biscuit he’d just taken a bite of. Frederick, who was sitting next to him, clapped him hard on the back, then looked up at Liz with a confused frown. “I do not know this word, ‘crush’?”

“Forget it,” Liz sighed dejectedly. 

Justin stood abruptly and announced, _“I just remembered I left my vehicle parked in the town square. With your permission, I’d like to move it to the alley behind the church.”_

_“Of course,”_ replied Bastian, as bemused as his son. 

With a curt bow, Justin took his leave. Most of his food remained uneaten on his plate. “Nicely done, Liz,” Kid hissed under his breath. 

“Come on, he’s not still in denial, is he? It’s so obvious. He goes doe-eyed practically every time you walk into a room.” 

“...What?”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed,” Liz scoffed. “You always notice every little detail.”

“You’re probably misinterpreting religious devotion.” That was what Kid had interpreted it as, anyway.

“Oh please. I don’t think it’s very devout if you look at your god like you want him to—“

“No need to elaborate! Forget I said anything.” Kid switched back to German, and addressed Frederick once more. _“Frederick, we would very much like to keep in touch with you and your father after tonight. Do you have a cellphone?”_

_“Yes,”_ was Frederick’s enthusiastic reply. 

_“Oh good. I’m afraid I don’t have one”_ — not technically a lie; anyone who wanted to contact Kid used a mirror — _“so why don’t you give Liz your number?”_ Kid summoned an elegant black fountain pen into being and held it out to the young friar. 

Frederick accepted it reverently and scrawled his cellphone number on a paper doily and slid it across the table to Liz. “Here, Liz,” he said, beaming.

Liz slowly reached out and took it. To Kid, she whispered, “What did you say to him?”

“Consider it a favor,” said Kid. “In exchange for leaving Justin in peace.”

Liz looked down at the doily, considering. Then she shoved it in her pocket. “Deal,” she said.

The rest of the meal passed without incident. Patti claimed Justin’s abandoned plate after she’d cleaned hers, and attempted to get recipes for the food out of Bastian. While the pastor spoke hardly a word of English and Patti knew absolutely no German, the two of them seemed to have a surprisingly engaged conversation involving a lot of creative hand gestures. Liz and Frederick finally got to chatting. And Kid…thought about Justin. 

He had hoped he would get a chance to speak with the Death Scythe privately after the battle with Raptra, but the opportunity had yet to present itself. Now, he wasn’t even sure what to say. No, that wasn’t true. He still needed to apologize. The rest might not even matter. Whatever Justin had thought of him until that night, it was quite possible that Kid had scared him off with the stunt he’d pulled. 

They all finished eating, cleared the table, and went to bed. Well, everyone but Kid and Bastian. The priest said he had a few “house calls” to make before the night was through. With a few parting words, he bundled himself up in a long, black coat and stepped out into the night. Liz and Patti were exhausted from the long day of travel and the tough fight, and with the time difference, it was about when they would normally be getting to bed, anyway. Frederick wasn’t much better off—he’d had only a few hours’ sleep that night, and the night was almost over. Kid bid the three of them goodnight, and decided he would take the liberty of organizing the church’s pantry, if only to pass a little of the long stretch of time that lay before him until night fell once more. 

It wasn’t long after he’d started rearranging the ingredients on the shelves into a symmetrical pattern that he heard the growl of the ATV’s engine outside. But once Kid had started a tidying project, nothing short of grave and immediate danger could force him away from it before he’d finished. So he completed his work, took a moment to inspect and admire it, and only then did he return to the main level. He found Liz and Patti sound asleep in their bedrolls, but Justin’s was empty. 

He wasn’t hard to find. Kid ascended the spiral staircase up the bell tower, and saw Justin leaning out over the short, stone guard wall, watching dawn break over the valley. He may have been effectively deaf with his headphones in, but his instincts were sharper than most. He turned around as soon as Kid stepped out onto the landing. Kid slid his mask around to the side and said, “I could hear your music from all the way downstairs.”

“Oh,” said Justin. 

“Is it that bad?”

Justin gave a shuddering sigh, as though he were in physical pain, but hadn’t allowed himself to show it until now. “It’s been worse, since Raptra’s attack.”

“Why didn’t you say something? You know I can help.” Kid reached out his hand, and Justin flinched. Kid let his hand drop. “Oh.”

“I’m sorry,” meister and weapon said in unison.

“Hold on. What do you have to apologize for?” Kid asked. “I’m the one who violated your trust.”

Justin shook his head. “No, you didn’t. I trust you to do what needs to be done, and that’s exactly what you did. I’ll admit it wasn’t... _pleasant_ , but if you hadn’t snapped me out of that state, Raptra would almost certainly have killed me. You saved my life. I’m the one who behaved shamefully. I had no right to speak to you that way.”

Kid frowned. “Justin, we’re partners. You have every right to speak your mind. This doesn’t work if we’re not honest with each other.”

“But I don’t believe those things anymore,” said Justin emphatically. “I haven’t for a long time.”

“But you used to,” said Kid, without a hint of accusation in his tone. He was merely curious to know what had changed Justin’s mind.

Justin seemed uncomfortable with the subject, but he didn’t try to evade it. “Yes, at that age, after my mother had just died in my arms, I thought death was the root of all the world’s evil. But when your father took me in at the academy, he was so kind... And during my time there, I came to understand the importance of his role in this world, and that I’d been confusing cause and effect. The world isn’t imperfect because people die; people die because the world is imperfect. But it can never _be_ perfect, because people live in it. Death didn’t take my mother away from me—but he did take her where she needed to go. And I’m grateful for that.”

Kid smiled, despite himself. “It sounds like you had all this figured out even before I did.”

“What?” said Justin quietly. 

Justin was probably the last person he should be saying this to, but Kid couldn’t very well ask for his partner’s honesty without repaying it in kind. “It’s probably not reassuring to hear, coming from me, but there’s no elaborate, grand scheme. Father didn’t leave me a big instruction manual. I know there was still so much more he intended to teach me. More often than I’d like to admit, I feel as though I’m just making it all up as I go.” 

“You’re right, that’s not very reassuring,” said Justin, looking a little bit stricken. “But I’m sure you’ll figure it out. I have faith in you.” 

This time, Kid didn’t have his mask to hide the blush that crept up his cheeks. No one except perhaps Crona was ever this heartfelt with him. He was used to trading insults with Black Star, sarcastic quips with Soul, smart-ass remarks with Maka, polite conversation with Tsubaki. Liz and Patti gave him constant grief, which he had largely grown accustomed to tuning out. They showed their affection in nonverbal ways, often simply by remaining at his side no matter how dire the situation. But Justin said exactly what he meant, and that was something Kid wasn’t used to.

“Enough to let me help you again?” Kid finally asked. 

Justin nodded. When Kid reached out a second time, the Death Scythe didn’t flinch. So Kid flattened his palm against Justin’s chest and began the process of calming the harsh irregularities in his partner’s soul wavelength. Now that he knew what he was doing, it didn’t take half as long as it had the first time—a couple minutes, maybe less. As he worked, he felt the pained tension leave Justin’s body like a passing shadow. When it was gone, Kid’s work was done.

“Better?” Kid asked, having to look up to see Justin’s face, since he’d stepped in close. The older teen still had a good few inches on him, Kid noted, but it was an irregularity he found he didn’t mind so much. 

Justin let out a relaxed sigh and paused his blaring music. “Yes, thank you. I’d much rather listen to your voice than all of theirs.”

Kid looked down at his hand, still splayed over Justin’s heart. He found himself reluctant to withdraw it—this way he could _feel_ , as easily as he could reach out and touch a physical object, that Justin’s soul harbored no resentment toward him. But as soon as he pulled his hand away, he wouldn’t be so sure. “I still feel awful,” Kid said, “for forcing you to relive those memories.”

“It’s okay,” Justin said. “Really. Look at me, I’m fine.” Kid did. He looked up into blue eyes that before had always seemed as clear and bright as the summer sky, but in the dim light of dawn they were dark, and unfathomable. “Anyway, in my experience, I’ve found it’s usually better to ask forgiveness than permission.”

Those dark eyes dipped down, as if to read Kid’s response—old habits, perhaps. Or perhaps not. Was Justin still talking about Kid’s actions on the battlefield? It was suddenly difficult to tell, especially given the strange fluctuations in Justin’s soul wavelength that Kid didn’t quite know how to interpret. Thanks to Liz, however, he could hazard a pretty good guess. 

Taking Justin at his word, then, Kid leaned up on his toes and brushed his lips against Justin’s. From the small noise Justin made, and the way his heart sped up beneath Kid’s hand, Kid was pretty sure he’d guessed right. But those could also be fear responses, and Kid had to be certain before taking things further.

“Is this okay?” he whispered. 

“Y-yes,” Justin replied, and while his voice was unsteady, it was fervent. That was all Kid needed to hear. He sealed his lips over Justin’s, and they kissed in earnest. After a suspended moment in which their breathing synchronized and they fell into Soul Resonance naturally without giving it much thought, Kid lifted his other hand to cup Justin’s jaw and deepen the kiss. Justin’s back hit the wall, and his uninjured arm encircled Kid’s waist protectively, like Kid was the most precious thing in the world, and he didn’t want anything else in the world to touch him. Kid found the notion sweet, considering the touch of Death was the thing most people feared above all else. 

“I’m not afraid of you,” Justin murmured against Kid’s lips. Kid recalled Justin’s memory of his outburst in class at the DWMA, of the frightened whispers of his fellow classmates behind his back, his fear even of himself. If anyone understood the alienation Kid felt at humanity’s collective, deep-seated fear of death, it was The Executioner. 

Kid kissed Justin again, more fervently this time, attempting to communicate everything he couldn’t put into words. They didn’t stop until the sun had risen sluggishly above the horizon, spilling streaks of orange and pink across the sky over the valley, turning Justin’s hair to a burnished halo and setting Kid’s eyes aglow. 

“I may not need to rest,” Kid said, finally, “but you do.” 

Justin ran lightly trembling fingers through his mussed hair, and smiled ruefully. “I think you’re right. I'm starting to feel a little light-headed.”

Kid chuckled and stepped back, giving Justin space to extract himself from between Kid and the wall. “There’s a bedroll set up for you downstairs with Liz and Patti. I’ll come wake you all at nightfall.” 

Justin nodded and made for the stairs, but stopped abruptly halfway. “Oh, I almost forgot!” he said, turning to face Kid once more. He reached into the pocket of his long coat and pulled out a small bundle tied up in one of Bastian’s cotton napkins. He held it out, and Kid accepted it curiously. “It’s not much,” he continued, “but I managed to nab you a couple of biscuits.” 

As Kid unwrapped the napkin and the smell of yeasty, buttery pastry wafted up from two perfectly golden brown biscuits, his stomach growled. Loudly. Justin laughed, and the sound reminded Kid of church bells. Kid gave a half-hearted glare, which soon melted into a smile to mirror Justin’s. “Thank you,” he said. 

“It was the least I could do,” said Justin dismissively. “What are you going to do for the whole day, if you’re not going to sleep?”

“I’m not sure yet,” Kid answered. “But I think I’ll stay up here awhile longer.”


	9. Endings and Beginnings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, there's also going to be a short epilogue after this :)

The sunrise was beautiful. It made Kid think of new life, and new beginnings. But when he began to think about what, exactly, he had just started, he began to fidget. He was probably overthinking things, as usual. But once he was left alone with his thoughts, a kind of anxiety crept in that he had never experienced before. He was used to self-doubt when it came to whether or not he had remembered to return his furniture to its precisely symmetrical arrangements before leaving the house, but not so much when it came to…interpersonal matters. He had a few friends and a lot of enemies, and both had kept him pretty busy. If he were being honest with himself, he had never had much interest in anything else. His father’s painfully transparent matchmaking attempts to find a suitable “weapon partner” for him had taught him much more about his father’s preferences than his own. When he had first enrolled at the academy, rumors had spread like wildfire that he and Liz or Patti—or, depending on who you asked, he, Liz _and_ Patti—were romantically involved, which was…flattering, he supposed, if a little incestuous? Liz and Patti were like sisters to him, and they were _literally_ sisters to each other, so that whole notion was a definite nonstarter.  

But as Kid had gotten to know Justin better over the past few weeks—his demons, his drives, his devotion—Kid had found himself entranced. And in the moment, it had simply felt _right_ to kiss him. But Kid could never stop his worries from getting the better of him, and there were a lot of reasons why starting a relationship with Justin might not be such a good idea. The least of which was that he was technically Justin’s boss at the academy, and while Justin was only a part-time tutor now, because he was going to be staying in Death City for the foreseeable future, he had talked about joining the faculty as a full-time professor. Not that Kid would ever abuse the academic hierarchy, but just the thought of sitting through an ethics lecture from Professor Stein of all people was deeply unnerving. He couldn't see that being an issue though, since before he was Justin’s boss, he was his _deity_. Kid had already shaken the young Death Scythe’s faith once entirely by accident, and he had no idea what could happen after another dramatic shift in their relationship. Wouldn’t it be cruel to put Justin through the wringer like that, regardless of his feelings for Kid now?

And even if they managed to overcome those hurdles, there remained the immutable fact that Kid was now immortal, and Justin...wasn’t. Things would not end nicely between them in the long run. Liz had agonized enough times over the trashy vampire novels she liked to read, bemoaning the tragedy of a romance between an immortal and a mortal whose precious time together was all too fleeting, unless drastic measures were taken. But despite Liz’s teasing about his morbid aesthetic, Kid wasn’t actually a vampire, and he couldn’t just bite people and turn them into vampires, either, which sounded horribly unhygienic, anyway. Although, there was one option... But Kid was getting ahead of himself, he knew. He just needed to calm down, and think things through.

At first, he thought he might pass the hours walking through the Veil, or the In-Between as he had called it when he was very young—that liminal realm between life and death that particularly troubled souls of the recently deceased sometimes got stuck in on their way through, leading to hauntings and other strange happenings in the living world. No living thing could pass through, with the exception of a shinigami. That made it a remarkably peaceful place. Doubly so, when there were no anomalies that Kid needed to attend to. After he’d made the precise series of hand signals to channel his magic and open the way, he stepped through to find that today was such a day. Nothing disturbed him in the complete and utter calm. Misty emptiness stretched into infinity without irregularity. Everything was the same here, because there was _nothing_ here. Kid had found it was the perfect place to come when he wished to be alone with his thoughts. 

Well, it would have been, had he truly been alone. 

_Have you brought me here to send me on my cosmic way?_

Kid had almost forgotten he was still carrying Raptra’s soul, tucked away inside his cloak. “No,” he replied. “You tore up your ticket to the next life when you started consuming innocent souls.”

_I suspected that might be the case. Just thought I would ask._

“…You’re taking all this rather well.” 

_Death puts things in perspective._  

Kid continued to walk through the unchanging scenery, attempting to ignore Raptra’s presence. It seemed she wasn’t going to make it easy, however. _There isn’t a lot going on in this place, is there? Is this where you come to brood?_

“I’m not brooding. I’m just thinking. Or trying to.”

_Oh, I see. First kiss, huh?_ Kid stopped walking. _Want to talk about it?_  

“No. Especially not with you. I don’t even know why I’m talking to you at all.” 

_Well, it seems you’ve got nothing better to do. Neither have I._

“Clearly.” 

_He’s cute._

“He decapitated you.”

_The sharp part’s less cute. Still, he seems sweet. Like a dog. If you like that sort of thing. I was always more of a cat person._

“I’m not talking about this with you.”

Raptra didn’t seem to mind, happily continuing on without Kid’s input. _It’s just funny, is all. Here I was, thinking the Grim Reaper didn’t have a heart. But perhaps I misjudged you. Perhaps you’re only heartless when it comes to witches._

“Don’t tell me you think your fate is undeserved, Raptra,” Kid growled. “You tried hard to get my attention, specifically. And you got what you wanted.”

_Me? Yes, I suppose I did. But how many other witches have been culled for the sake of your ideals? Did they all deserve it, do you think?_

Kid thought of the countless, anonymous grave markers in the Death Room. He couldn’t put names to them even if he wanted to. He just didn’t know. “We were at war, Raptra. Both sides spilt their share of blood. As far as I’m concerned, the scales are balanced now. We’re finally at peace. The only thing your actions might have achieved would have been tipping us back into war.”

_Sometimes war is the only path to freedom._

“You still don’t get it, do you? The Witches’ Council came to _me_. They asked for my help. To stop you. Do you know why?” Raptra remained silent for once, so Kid continued. “Because we’re allies, now. They don’t want to see this peace broken any more than I do.”

_...Then the Council is weaker than I thought. But don’t delude yourself, reaper. Just because your enemy ceases to fight, does not mean you have gained peace. What you have gained is a victory. You think the scales are balanced? Not even close. Or have you forgotten the great witch hunts, when the dogs of your holy order hunted us down in droves, burnt us alive or watched us swing from the gallows by the dozen. And all the while, they had the audacity to pray for_ our _forgiveness._

Kid wondered if Raptra was old enough to remember those times. There were a few witches on the Council who were. They had been the last to come around to the alliance. “They weren’t acting on my father’s orders. Humanity was convinced that the Plague was either my father’s doing, or the work of witches. Neither was true, but for many, the latter was easier to believe.” 

_And your father never bothered to correct that belief._

“There were a lot of people dying at the time, Raptra. He was a little preoccupied.” Kid felt Raptra’s irritation spike, so he continued speaking before she could interrupt. “But I won’t defend my father’s mistakes. He should have tried to put a stop to the witch hunts. It was one of many mistakes he made in his life. But I am not my father. You hardly gave me the chance to prove that. I know why—you thought I was weak, that there was an opportunity to wipe out the last of my family line. But now you’ll never get to see the outcome of the changes I’m making for a new, more harmonious world. I don’t know how they’ll turn out—I’m under no delusions that I can make the world perfect. But I’m sure I can make it better. You threw away your life and the lives of many others when there was no need for it. Honestly, nothing disgusts me more.” 

Kid prepared to leave, opening the way back to the living world. He was done here. But as he stepped through he heard Raptra murmur quietly, _I hope you build your better world, shinigami. I really do_. 

Back in the church, Kid spent another hour or so exploring the building, during which time he heard Bastian return, and turn in for bed. Eventually, Kid was drawn back to the library. Careful not to wake his partners, he pulled some of the most intriguing titles down off the shelves and took them to one of the pews beneath the tall, arching windows to read. As he’d expected, they were littered with inaccuracies, and he couldn’t resist adding annotations in the margins. Bastian had insisted that this was his house, after all. 

Kid was beginning to wonder if the mystery in which his family had shrouded itself for its own protection and the protection of humanity had ultimately done both parties more harm than good.

By the time the daylight had faded from the windows, Kid had filled two pews with neat stacks of annotated books—almost half of the church’s library. Bastian came down somewhat earlier than he’d anticipated, and saw Kid in the middle of crossing out an entire passage of a particularly old and probably rather valuable book. They both froze, Bastian mid-step, and Kid mid-scribble. 

_“Sorry. Do you mind?”_ said Kid. _“I’m sure I can replace these if...”_

_“No, please,”_ said Bastian, gesturing for Kid to continue. _“I would love to re-read those when you are done with them. I hate the idea that I’ve taught my parishioners erroneous information, and I certainly don’t wish to continue propagating those errors.”_

Kid breathed a sigh of relief, finishing his annotation and closing the book. _“I’m happy to answer any further questions you may have. Feel free to write to me at the academy at any time.”_

_“I– I wouldn’t want to bother you. I’m sure you’re very busy.”_

_“It’s no trouble at all,”_ Kid insisted. _“Your assistance has been invaluable. It’s the least I could do.”_

Bastian smiled. _“Thank you, Lord Death. It is almost nightfall—I’m sure you and your companions will want to be on your way soon. But...you may wish to stay in town just a little while longer.”_

Bastian was clearly getting at something, but he didn’t seem inclined to say more—only that Kid would “see for himself.” By the time Kid had woken Liz, Patti and Justin, Frederick was awake, too, and standing with his father by the entrance to see them all on their way. “Come back and visit sometime!” he told them cheerfully. Then he seemed to rethink the invitation, and added quickly, “But hopefully not too soon.” 

“I know what you meant,” Kid assured him. _“Thank you both for your hospitality. We won’t forget it.”_  

Once farewells had been said, Justin went to bring the ATV around out front. But he came back in looking like he’d just seen a ghost. “Um. You’ll want to see this, Lord Death,” he said. 

Everyone followed him out onto the front steps of the church, where they were met with the sight of dozens of people streaming out of their homes and moving excitedly down the streets in the direction of the town square. Kid could hear music coming faintly from that direction, and the sounds of a much larger crowd. But the most remarkable part was how people were dressed. Everyone was wearing some combination of black and white, and many were dressed up as shinigami, in long, black cloaks and papier-mâché skull masks, some carrying actual farmers’ scythes, others with prop scythes made of broom handles, cardboard and tinfoil. Each man, woman and child was also carrying a single, flickering candle, the multitude of them lighting up the darkened streets like a starry sky. 

_“You are welcome to enjoy the festival,”_ said Bastian innocently.

_“Festival?”_ inquired Kid. 

_“This morning, the City Council voted to mark the night Death slew the witch preying on our town with a holiday—the Night of Thirteen Bells, which we will celebrate annually with the Thirteen Bells Festival. If you’d like to take part in the festivities, I’m sure no one would recognize you.”_  

_“So they all believed you?”_ asked Kid, astonished. 

_“I am sure that some did. But while death may be a hard sell, holidays are not. I think most of them were just happy to throw a party.”_

“Hey Kid, mind filling us in on what the heck is going on? Do you have a cult we didn’t know about?” Liz asked, edging closer to Patti. 

“Come on.” Kid grinned. “It’s a celebration.”

xxx

“Is this sacrilegious?” Justin muttered. “I can’t tell.”

“I think it’s nice,” said Kid. “It reminds me of my masking ceremony back in Death City.”

“I think it’s creepy...” said Liz, nervously. “Right, Patti?” She turned back to her sister and yelped. Somehow, Patti had gotten her hands on a mask of her own. 

Patti laughed gleefully. “Look, Kid, I’m you!”

Kid pursed his lips and reached out to straighten the mask over her face. “There, that’s better,” he said when he was satisfied with the placement.  

“Oh, no,” Liz despaired. “I can barely deal with one of you.”

As they walked with the rest of the townsfolk down toward the square, Kid picked up fragments of excited conversations, children questioning each other on whether the other thought Death had really visited their town last night, parents confiding to each other in hushed tones that they were just glad the witch was dead and their children were safe. Then Kid realized one woman was actually speaking to him.

_“Where are your candles?”_ A young woman in a long, black dress asked, gesturing to Kid and his partners. _“Did you and your friends not get any?”_

_“No, I guess not,”_ Kid replied. _“What are they for?”_  

_“They’re for the bonfire, dummy!”_ said a masked little girl who was probably the woman’s daughter. She was wearing a black dress with white frilly lace trim, and carrying a wooden toy scythe a lot like the one Kid had had when he was little. As Kid turned to reply, she didn’t seem to notice him slow down, and she bumped into the back of his leg, dropping her own candle into a puddle. _“Aw, Mom, I lost another one,”_ she whined.

_“That is the third candle, Anya.”_ Her mother sighed, fishing around in her purse. She handed one candle to her daughter, and four more to Kid and his partners. _“My daughter won’t take her mask off so she can actually see where she’s going, so I brought plenty of extra candles,”_ she explained. 

_“I don’t know what Death looks like, but I’m pretty sure he doesn’t look like me,”_ said Anya as her mother carefully lit her candle with her own. 

_“I’m pretty sure he doesn’t wear a frilly dress, either,”_ her mother said. _“He probably wears something like that.”_ She gestured at Kid’s attire.  

 _“That_ is _a very nice costume,”_ Anya said to Kid, motioning for Kid to lean down so she could light his candle with hers. He did so. 

_“Thank you,”_ he replied, _“but I think yours is prettier.”_ She giggled and ran back to her mother’s side. 

Kid turned to Justin to light his candle. As he held his candle to Justin’s he cupped Justin’s hand with his to steady it—and to convey, he hoped, what he hadn’t yet been able to find the words for. The flame caught, and Justin gave him a small smile before turning away to light Liz’s candle so she could light Patti’s. 

They lost track of Anya and her mother in the crowd of revelers in the town square. There was indeed live music coming from a hastily constructed bandstand in one corner of the square. All along the edges were vendors, some selling various handicrafts, and others food and drink, like hot pretzels and sausages, mulled wine and hot chocolate, and fresh caramel apples decorated to look like skulls. Paper lanterns were strung up on wires overhead. And in the center of the square was the towering straw figure of a vulture with its wings raised toward the sky. 

As people flooded into the square, they moved toward the center and threw their candles down onto the vulture’s feet. The flames caught in the dry straw, and quickly began to spread up the body of the enormous bird. When the four of them reached the front, Kid, Justin and Liz followed previous example and tossed their candles at the vulture’s feet, but Patti hurled hers upward, where it embedded itself in the bird’s screaming beak and filled it with fire. The crowd cheered. Soon, the whole structure was ablaze, and people began to dance around the bonfire as the band played on. 

The whole town, it seemed, had turned out for the event. Sometime after the church bells sounded again, even Bastian and Frederick joined the festivities. When he saw them, Frederick waved enthusiastically and ran over before Bastian could yank him back, and so Bastian followed sheepishly in his wake. “So, what do you think?” Frederick asked eagerly. “We sure can throw a party, huh?”

“It’s wonderful,” said Kid. “I can’t believe you all organized this in a day.” 

Frederick waved his hand dismissively. “Once the harvests are in, no one has much to do until spring.”

“I’m seeing an awful lot of scythes and no pistols,” said Liz, eyeing the crowd. “Y’know this was Justin’s first fight with K— er, Lord Death, right? We were his partners first.” 

“Hmm.” Frederick frowned, then leaned in conspiratorially. “It’s probably because hand guns are illegal in Germany. So really, your weapon class is simply too dangerous.” 

“Ha!” Liz laughed. “I like that. You hear that, Patti? We’re just too dangerous.” Patti grinned, and for a moment, the small, bubbly girl really did look dangerous. But then a candy apple in someone’s hand nearby caught her eye, and the moment passed. 

“So, um, Liz,” said Frederick, all of his former confidence seemingly having left him. “W-would you…care to dance? That is, if you’re not already spoken for...” His eyes flicked between Kid and Justin, and he swallowed nervously, as though the thought had only just occurred to him.

“By one of those two?” Liz laughed even harder. Kid and Justin exchanged mildly affronted looks. “Not a chance. Come on.”  She took his hand and dragged him off toward the bonfire, and the other dancers.

“I want one of those,” said Patti, still fixated on the caramel apple. 

“I’m sorry, Patti, I didn’t think to acquire any local currency,” said Kid, feeling like he’d failed his partner. 

Bastian seemed to grasp the situation, because he interjected, in broken English, “Please, allow me.” 

Patti beamed, and whisked the poor, unsuspecting pastor off toward the food vendors before anyone could stop her. Which left Kid and Justin unexpectedly alone. Well, almost. 

 _What a charming bonfire._  

“Oh, don’t start,” said Kid. 

“Are you...talking to yourself?” Justin asked carefully. He had removed his headphones to listen to the live music.

“No, I’m talking to _her_ ,” Kid replied. “Or rather, _she_ keeps talking to _me_. I think voicing her every displeasure and getting on my nerves is her final act of rebellion.” He sighed. “The sooner I can lay her soul to rest, the better.” 

“Oh.” Justin smiled understandingly. “Well, I’m just glad we’re not _both_ hearing voices. Can you imagine the pair we’d make?” 

Kid chuckled. “While I am envious of your selective hearing trick, I think I already strain Liz and Patti’s patience enough as it is.” 

“Mm. Wouldn’t want them to snap and murder us in our sleep.”

“You’re joking, but they might actually do that.” 

“Oh, I don’t doubt it. I know firsthand how much of a punch those pistols pack.”

Kid grimaced. “I really am sorry about that.” 

“No, I get it. I was guarding the exit. You had to take me down to escape. Although, I would have let you escape, anyway...”Kid groaned, guilt churning his stomach. Justin’s teasing smile curved into a thoughtful frown. “Come to think of it, why didn’t you kill me then? You took a risk, letting me live.”

“It would have been even riskier to engage you,” said Kid. “I wasn’t in any shape for a real fight. I just needed you out of the way.”

“Was I really that intimidating?”

“Don’t read too much into it. I still would’ve won. I just didn’t want to stick around long enough for your idiot associates to show up.”

Justin laughed. “They really were terrible. It’s a miracle they didn’t actually drive me insane.”

“It’s somewhat cathartic to know they made you suffer through that ordeal, too,” Kid admitted jokingly. 

But Justin answered sincerely. “Knowing you were suffering was suffering enough. I’m ashamed to admit it, but there were many times that I considered breaking cover to get you out. I knew you weren’t in mortal danger, but at those times, your immediate well-being seemed more important than the eventual fate of the world should the kishin’s madness take hold of it.” Justin’s voice grew quiet, and he broke eye contact. “I suppose, that’s when I realized just how important you were. Not to humanity, of course, I already knew that, but...just to me.” 

In that moment, all of Kid’s earlier anxieties seemed inconsequential, too. What was most important was Justin, his partner, his devotee, his friend, his...something similar to, yet quite different from all of that. They could work out the details later.  

Kid reached down and laced his fingers with Justin’s, leaning into the taller boy slightly. “I know the path that you’ve chosen for yourself is important to you, too. I just don’t want to sway you from your vows,” he murmured.  

Justin chucked. “I don’t see how you could. All my vows essentially amount to a pledge to execute your will and do your work in the world. That’s pretty much my job description, now.”

“Er, you also implied to Blair that you’d taken...other vows.”

Justin looked confused, but then he blushed slightly as realization dawned. “Oh,” he said. “That was a lie.”

“What?” 

Justin ran a hand through the back of his hair sheepishly. “She was being very...forward, and I didn’t know quite what to say. I didn’t want to be rude.”

Kid began to laugh, and found he couldn’t stop. His eyes watered, and his shoulders shook, and he had to place a hand on Justin’s shoulder just to steady himself. Justin smiled ruefully, embarrassed, but also relieved by Kid’s reaction. When Kid finally got himself under control again, he rested his head against Justin’s shoulder and said, “You’re very different from the person I thought you were.”

It was a moment before Justin responded, and Kid worried that he’d taken his comment the wrong way. But all Justin said was, “We all have our masks, I suppose.”

Kid shivered, again recalling how easily Justin could slip into and out of different masks. But his unease didn’t last. Faces could lie, but souls could not. And Justin had bared his soul to Kid. He knew who Justin really was. Perhaps he was the only one who did. 

Just then, a portly pretzel vendor carrying a tall pole from which dozens of steaming hot pretzels hung on pegs approached them and thrust a pretzel wrapped in wax paper into Justin’s unsuspecting hand. _“Free for members of the clergy!”_ he said cheerily.

_“Oh, thank you,”_ said Justin, looking down at the pretzel, and then over at Kid. _“What about...senior church officials?”_

The pretzel vendor gave a hearty laugh. _“Nice try. The only senior official in the Black Church is Death himself. That’s a good costume he’s got there, but I think I’d know if I were looking Death in the face. If your friend wants a pretzel, he’s gotta pay.”_

Kid sighed and waved the vendor on his merry way. “It was a valiant attempt,” he told Justin.

Justin was glaring daggers at the vendor’s back. “Here,” he said, handing the pretzel to Kid. “You’ve hardly eaten.”

Kid took it, pulled it apart into precise halves, and handed half back to Justin. “I think that’s fair.” 

They ate their pretzel—Kid only after making sure that the Thompson sisters were still keeping Bastian and Frederick wholly preoccupied—and watched the bonfire rage and die. It seemed to fight more furiously against its inevitable demise the more of itself the flames consumed. Finally, as the frenetic energy of the party wound down, the two of them danced slowly in the dying light.

At midnight, Bastian rang the church bells thirteen times, and the crowd cheered, throwing their masks up in the air. Taking that as their queue to be on their way, Kid and Justin collected Patti and then Liz, who bid an uncharacteristically sweet goodbye to Frederick, and the four of them returned to where Justin had left his ATV. Kid reactivated the flying spell, and held out his hands for Liz and Patti to transform. 

“That sleepover was fun, but I miss my bed,” said Patti as Kid slid her into her holster.  

“Me, too,” Kid agreed with a yawn. “At least you two can sleep on the way back.” 

“Hey, if you fall asleep, you’re gonna fall off the bike and take us down with you!” Liz said from her holster. “Justin, if Kid starts to doze off, elbow him in the ribs.”

Justin looked down at his sling and shrugged helplessly. “I’ve only got one good arm at the moment, and I need it to drive.” 

“I’m not going to fall asleep,” Kid sighed. “Come on, let’s go home.”

Only after they had been in the air for awhile, and Liz and Patti had fallen conspicuously silent, did Justin say, “It’s nice, having a home to go back to. I don’t think I’ve had one in a long time.” 

Kid rested his head between Justin’s shoulder blades and tightened his hold around the Death Scythe’s waist a little. “You have one now.”

xxx

The next day, Kid called Justin, Liz, Patti, Professor Stein and Kim to the Death Room after classes. It was time to perform his final duty in this whole affair. 

He welcomed them standing over an open grave. “I have asked you all here to bear witness to the witch Raptra’s sentence, so that there may be transparency between the DWMA and the Witches’ Council. I acted as a third party in this case, but I hope my fulfilment of the Council’s terms will encourage a willingness for greater cooperation between our two organizations in the future. Are there any questions before we proceed?” 

Kim spoke up. “The academy had no role in Raptra’s elimination?” 

“None whatsoever,” replied Kid.

“Lord Death insisted on it,” Stein grumbled. 

Kim nodded, apparently satisfied. Kid continued. “Because Raptra robbed innocent people of their entry into the next life, her soul will be denied passage. It will remain behind, here, indefinitely.” He produced Raptra’s soul from within the folds of his cloak. Its color had dulled from a fiery red to the shade of cooling blood. 

_I suppose this is goodbye, reaper._

“And good riddance?” Kid muttered under his breath.

_Almost certainly._  

With that, Kid tipped the soul from his palm and let it fall down into the open grave, which swallowed it up and closed over it in seconds. A white, cruciform grave marker like the thousands of others littering the Death Room was all that was left to mark the spot. “May her soul rest in peace,” said Kid.

“You will keep the soul here in the academy?” asked Kim suspiciously. 

“We are not currently in the academy,” responded Kid. “The Death Room is a special section of my domain. Those archways,” he indicated the line of guillotine arches stretching back toward the door, “make this place accessible to living beings, but make no mistake, this is where Raptra’s soul belongs.”

Kim looked around skeptically, but made no further objections. The matter was settled. After a moment of silence for the dead, Kid spoke again. “There is something else I wish to discuss with you all.” He walked toward the dais, leaving the grave behind him. “The mystique surrounding my family and this academy out in the world has done little to protect us, as my father had hoped. Instead, ignorance has too often led to fear and misunderstanding, Raptra’s case being only the most recent example. I’ve been thinking about it, and the solution seems obvious. A school’s purpose is to educate. So I would like to open a new program at the DWMA—on a trial basis at first, with only a handful of students. They would be neither weapons nor meisters, but ordinary students taking only theoretical classes, such as phasmology, demon weapon history, certain N.O.T. classes, and so on. Kim, your ambassadorship as a DWMA student and liaison to the Witches’ Council has been invaluable to the strengthening of our new alliance. If there are other young witches like you in the community who would wish to study here, I’d like you to extend an invitation on my behalf for them to be among the first trial students in the new program. Justin, the same goes for you. It seems to me that Frederick and others like him have the greatest potential for educating others around the world, beginning with their own parishes. You have my permission to extend invitations to promising candidates in the order on my behalf. Professor Stein, I’d like to work with you and Professor Marie in designing the curriculum—“ 

“Hang on,” interrupted Kim. “You want to put witches together with priests in this trial class?” 

“They would most likely be friars, at that age,” said Justin. 

“It doesn’t matter,” said Kim. “After the Grim Reaper himself, what witches hate most is his holy order. There’s too much bad blood.”

“That is exactly what I am attempting to remedy, and I am aware it will be a lengthy process,” said Kid. “But if you were open-minded enough to work and learn and fight alongside Justin and myself, then I am confident there are others like you. And as for students from the order, I will personally make it clear to them that I expect the same open-mindedness on their part.”

“It could work,” Kim allowed. “Or it could all fall apart _real_ fast.”

“Except, we won’t let that happen, will we?” Kid replied. 

“Huh?”

“I think you would make an excellent Teacher’s Assistant for this program, given your laudable accomplishments. And I’m sure other young witches will feel more welcome here if you are there to help guide them.”

Kim considered Kid’s offer a moment before saying, “Well, it’s not like you have any chance of pulling this off without me.” It was hard to tell with Kim sometimes, but it seemed she might have some actual enthusiasm for the idea.

Kid smiled. “So I can count on you?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Professor Stein, why don’t you go home and discuss this with Professor Marie. You can come see me during free period tomorrow with your ideas.”

“Oh, I already have some ideas,” Stein chuckled as he turned and walked back through the archways. Kid would be more worried if he didn’t know Marie could be relied upon to temper Stein’s more...experimental ideas. But they needed a little experimentation to make this work, and there was no one better to do it than Professor Stein.  

Kim turned to leave as well, but Kid stopped her. “We have something else we need to discuss.” When Kim turned back toward him, her face was even more closed off than usual. “I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that intercepting the DWMA’s intelligence reports is both dangerous and seditious.” Kim nodded slowly, not quite meeting his eyes. “I understand why you did it—like you said, our alliance with the Witches’ Council is fragile, which puts you in a difficult position. But if they ever pressure you to use your status as a DWMA student to work against the academy again, tell me. I’m sure we’ll be able to work out an appropriate course of action.” She nodded more firmly, breathing a sigh of relief. Kid let her have a moment before continuing, “But if you keep vital information from me again, I will be forced to consider expelling you from the academy, and that would be lenient, considering my father typically put traitors in the dungeon.”

Kim looked up at him sharply, but Kid merely smiled. “I look forward to working with you.” 

Kim didn’t stick around for pleasant goodbyes. As soon as Kid finished speaking, she turned on her heel and swiftly left the Death Room. 

“Damn,” said Liz, when she was gone. “You out-bitched the girl who can out-bitch me. That was impressive.”

“I don’t think I should take that as a compliment,” said Kid. 

As the four of them left the Death Room together, Liz mused, “Since we’re now more of a team than just partners, should we have a team name?” 

“The Giraffes!” Patti blurted excitedly.  

“I hate to break it to ya, but you’re definitely not a giraffe, Sis. You’re like five-two, tops. I was thinking something more like...Kid and the Killers.”

“That’s ghoulish, Liz,” said Kid. “Besides, we’re not a punk rock band.”

“Says the guy who only wears black and at least three skulls on his person at any given time,” said Liz.

Kid ignored her. He was too excited about his own idea. “Oh! I know! Our team name should be a palindrome! That way it’s symmetrical whether you read it forwards or backwards. I have a list of them at home.”

“Of course you do,” Liz sighed.

“Well, it’s not a palindrome,” said Justin, “but what about The Angels of Death?” 

“Hey, that’s not bad,” said Liz. “It’s actually pretty badass.” 

“I still think The Giraffes is better,” Patti grumbled. 

“A pair of black wings around my heraldic skull motif would make for a nicely symmetrical design element...” Kid considered the idea further. It had sixteen letters—two eights. And it did have a rather nice ring to it. “I like it,” he decided. 

“Alright, go team!” Liz gave one of her cheerleader-style air punches. “Just don’t make the arm bands too goth, okay? I know you and Justin have a whole aesthetic going on, but Patti and I wear normal clothes, and I don’t want them to clash.”

They were still debating design options as they left the building. Maka, Soul, Blackstar, Tsubaki and Crona were all hanging out on the steps in front of the academy, and when Maka saw the four of them step outside, she waved them over. She greeted them with a friendly smile. “Welcome back!”  

Black Star stood and immediately encroached on Kid’s personal space, as he tended to do when he was worked up about something. “What was all that crap about establishing your reputation abroad?” he asked. “You just took a vacation, didn’t you?” 

“I didn’t know Death could take a vacation,” Soul mused. 

“Call it a working vacation,” said Kid. 

“I think that sounds nice,” said Tsubaki. 

Black Star scoffed. “Well, while you were all on your ‘working vacation’,” he put the words in air quotes, “you left your house completely unguarded. There was no one to stop me from…redecorating.” He gave Kid a big grin full of challenge.

Kid froze. “Tell me you’re bluffing.”  

“Or what?” Black Star goaded. “You’ll finally man up and fight me again?”  

“It’s against school regulations for faculty to duel students,” Justin interjected hesitantly. 

“I make the rules; I can make exceptions,” said Kid, eyes narrowing on Black Star, already assessing him as a target. 

“Please don’t do this, Black Star,” Tsubaki pleaded. 

“I think we’re all with Tsubaki on this one, man,” Soul added. “Kid’s gonna beat the crap out of you. Just look how much you’ve pissed him off.” 

But of course, that only made Black Star more defiant, and more determined. “That was the plan,” he said with another grin. “Tsubaki.” 

Reluctantly, Tsubaki transformed. She would never leave Black Star to fight alone, no matter how strongly she disagreed with him. Kid disliked how easily he could be riled up, but he couldn’t help it. He kept imagining his perfect home in complete disarray, and it made his stomach churn. He knew Black Star wasn’t going to let him leave and check to see whether it was all a bluff—not until he was in no state to _stop_ Kid from leaving. 

“Alright, Black Star,” said Kid. “It just so happens we have a new technique we need to practice. Since you’ve been kind enough to volunteer… Liz, Patti.” The Thompson sisters transformed, and Kid caught them as he took a combat stance. 

“Hang on, your’e supposed to fight me with your Death Scythe,” said Black Star, waving Tsubaki wildly through the air above his head. 

Kid glanced back over his shoulder. “Justin?” Justin nodded and moved to stand by Kid’s side. With a flick of his wrist, a blade shot out from his forearm, gleaming orange in the late afternoon sun. 

Black Star cocked his head. “Huh?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” said Kid, feigning concern. “I suppose two on four really isn’t a fair fight. Shall I have Liz and Patti sit this one out?”

Black Star set his jaw. “You’re right, it’s not a fair fight. For you.” He dropped into a fighting stance, leveling Tsubaki at Kid and Justin. Kid smiled. Black Star might know just which buttons to push to get a rise out of him, but Kid could do the same to Black Star just as easily. “Well, _Lord Death_? What are you waiting for?”

Kid let the first few notes of a melody flow from his soul, soon to be joined by harmonies from Liz, Patti and Justin. As the notes interwove with each other, forming a single song and locking the four of them into a strong Harmony Resonance, they shared one thought before they attacked in unison:

_Go team._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been getting more into Dungeons & Dragons lately, and now I really want a Soul Eater fantasy RPG AU, starring:
> 
> Kid — A Necromancer who doesn’t know he’s actually the son of Death (he also doesn’t know the first thing about real necromancy—he just comes up with overelaborate hand gestures to cast spells, and the dead obey his will anyway).
> 
> Justin — A Paladin in service to the god of Death (basically the same as in the manga/anime, tbh).
> 
> Liz & Patti — Sister Half-Elf Rogues as thick as thieves. Incidentally, thievery is their favorite hobby.
> 
> Black Star — The least stealthy Assassin ever to walk the earth. He just can't resist announcing his own arrival with boisterous fanfare whenever he encounters an opponent. Or a friend. Or a total stranger. Or even a squirrel. 
> 
> Tsubaki — An Eladrin (probably Ghaele) Druid who doesn't have much of a taste for adventure herself, but keeps getting dragged into it by a certain noisy Assassin who would probably be dead without her. 
> 
> Maka — A Ranger who carries too many books to be as mobile as she really should be, given her class. She has three bags of holding. They're all full of books. When a fellow party member asks if she's carrying anything useful during a fight, she hands them a book and tells them to chuck it at the enemy. 
> 
> Soul Eater — A Tiefling Bard. His is the Devil's music. 
> 
> Stein — An unreliable Alchemist who’s just as likely to hand a fellow party member a phial of poison as a healing potion.
> 
> Marie — A Fighter with the heart of a lion, a lemming's sense of direction, and a paralyzing fear of spiders. 
> 
> Asura — An emo, jacked-up Mindflayer.


	10. Epilogue: Face the Music

It turned out, Black Star _had_ been bluffing. The good news was that he was only laid up in the hospital for a couple of days. There were no hard feelings between him and Kid after the fight—Kid knew the only thing Black Star wouldn’t forgive him for was going easy on him. Regardless, Justin brought Black Star a batch of cupcakes decorated with little icing ninja stars while he was in the hospital by way of an apology, and Black Star devoured them even more voraciously than Patti normally did. 

_‘Where does he fit it all?’_ Kid mouthed to Justin, who stood on the other side of Black Star’s hospital bed with a bewildered look on his face to match his meister’s.

Justin snickered, and Black Star stopped shoving cupcakes in his mouth to look back and forth between Justin and Kid suspiciously. “What did you say to him?” He asked Kid, his mouth still full of cupcake. “Did you call me fat? Because I’m not, look!” He pulled open the top of his hospital robe and flexed his abs. “Punch me in the stomach.”

“I’ve already gotten that desire out of my system, Black Star,” Kid teased. 

“I bet I can make you wanna hit me again,” Black Star replied, his eyes gleaming with the absurd challenge.

“I have no doubt about that,” said Kid. “But for now, I’d much prefer a truce. What do you say?”

Black Star crossed his arms over his chest and held his head high. “I guess I can accept your offer of surrender. Since you asked nicely.”

It took herculean effort for Kid to suppress the urge to bang his head against the wall. 

xxx

Not long after that day, Kid sent Justin back to Germany with funds for repairs to the street they had damaged in their battle with Raptra, as well as an invitation for Frederick to apply to the DWMA’s new non-weapon/meister program encompassing theoretical and general soul studies from the scientific, anthropological and historical perspectives, or T.A.G., for short. He returned several days later with Frederick’s application. 

When Kid broke the good news to his partners that Frederick’s application was good enough to merit his acceptance to the program, Liz leapt up and hugged him. “You’re the best, Kid! This long distance thing really sucks.”

“You do know this isn’t all an elaborate scheme to get you a boyfriend, right?” Kid responded. “I have actually created a new academic program with important objectives, and Frederick has actually been accepted on his own merits.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever you say,” said Liz, clearly not listening to him anymore. She was tapping away on her cellphone. 

“Don’t tell him yet!” said Kid, trying to snatch the phone from her, but she was still just _that_ much taller than him, and managed to hold it up just out of his reach. “I’m going to write him a letter!”

“Too late. I already sent it.” Liz looked up at her phone screen. “He says he’s honored.”

Kid flagged. “How did you do that so quickly?”

She presented her phone like a museum exhibit. “Well, Kid, this is called a cellphone. It’s a bit like a mirror, except I can talk to anyone with it, not just you. How it works is, there’s a little transmitter hidden inside that sends a signal to cell towers all around the world in a matter of seconds—“

“I know how cellphones work, Liz.”

“Then why don’t you have one?” This wasn’t a new debate. Liz had been trying to get him to buy a cellphone for years. 

“Because I don’t need one,” Kid answered. Then added more quietly, “And it would ruin the line of my suit.”

“Okay, Lord Diva, what if it’s an emergency, and _you_ need to call _me_?”

“If you’re not with me, I’ll come get you. Distance isn’t really an issue for me when I’m alone.”

“And what if you can’t?” Liz countered. “Like when choir boy here had you all chained up?”

“Choir boy?” Justin echoed faintly. 

“If I’d had a cellphone on me when I was abducted, I’m sure they would have taken it. Right, Justin?” said Kid. 

“Well, yes, but—“

“So I really don’t see the use,” Kid continued. 

“Come on,” Liz whined. “What’s the point of being your weapon if I can’t brag that I have Death on speed-dial?”

Kid looked at her blankly. “What’s speed-dial?”

This time it was Liz who had to resist the urge to bang her head against the wall.

xxx

Early one morning, about a month after the whole Raptra affair, Kid finally found the resolve to broach the subject with Justin that he had been turning over in his mind since it had first become apparent that the two of them were well-matched as partners. He had hardly slept, thinking of all the ways to say what he wanted to say, and all the ways in which Justin might respond. Instead he had watched Justin sleep, and took reassurance from the Death Scythe’s presence beside him even now, when nothing was at stake but a little warmth and comfort. He could only hope Justin would choose to stay by his side when the stakes were much, much higher. 

Kid leaned over, intending to wake Justin with a kiss. It seemed a nice way to begin a very difficult discussion. But the moment his lips touched Justin’s, he felt a blade touch his throat.

Justin’s eyes widened as full consciousness returned, and he looked up at Kid in horror. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, retracting his blade. “It’s a reflex.”

“Do you have any non-lethal reflexes?”

Kid had meant it playfully, but Justin only looked more guilty. “Maybe I shouldn’t sleep here...”

Kid gently turned Justin’s face back toward him, so he could look him in the eyes. “I’m fine,” Kid said calmly. “Even if you _had_ slit my throat, which you _didn’t_ , I would _still_ be fine. We’d probably have to replace the sheets, which would be irritating, since it’s difficult to find black that isn’t actually dark grey—“ Kid stopped himself before he could get too far along that tangent. “But you can’t seriously hurt me without trying _pretty damn_ hard.”

Justin took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. “Of course. You’re immortal.” _Unlike her_ went unsaid, but not unheard.

“That’s sort of what I want to talk to you about,” said Kid.

Justin pushed himself up on his elbows. “Hm?”

Kid launched into it without giving himself the chance to reconsider for the thousandth time. “Not many people know this, but after the witch Arachne created the demon weapons, she managed to elevate one of them to the status of a Death Scythe. The first Death Scythe—Morgan. When my father was hunting Arachne down, he raided one of her hideouts and found Morgan. Arachne had been forced to leave her behind in her haste to escape. Morgan hated what Arachne had done to her, and she willingly became my father’s weapon, swearing that she would remain in his service until they could finally catch and kill Arachne. But when Arachne disappeared without a trace, it seemed she would not be able to fulfill her oath—at least, not within a human lifetime. This was before the founding of the DWMA, and my father had no desire to relinquish such a powerful weapon…” Kid hesitated, despite himself. He held Justin’s rapt attention. Justin knew a lot of the old stories, but he didn’t know _this_ one. Of that, Kid was certain. “…I’m not sure how much choice my father gave Morgan in the matter, but he needed her by his side longer than her mortal life would allow, so he…extended her time on this earth. 

“As you know, Death Scythes draw their extraordinary power from the witch souls they possess. But they are only able to tap the soul’s active properties—its raw magical energy. A witch’s soul also has passive properties, one of which is extreme longevity. Witches live for hundreds of years, thousands, even, if they’re careful not to attract too much attention to themselves. As a shinigami, my father was able to alter the properties of the witch’s soul within Morgan, activating its passive longevity. She lived another four hundred years before she was killed in battle. Morgan is the scythe in almost all depictions of my father, through the centuries. Her death prompted the creation of the Death Scythe program at the DWMA, and Father never had to extend the life of another Death Scythe.” 

“But you closed the Death Scythe program,” said Justin. “I think I see where you’re going with this.” He didn’t seem alarmed, or affronted. He was calm, thoughtful. 

“I could do for you what my father did for Morgan,” said Kid. “I’m certain of it. But it would not be my choice to make. It would be yours. And I want to be clear: I’m not asking anything more from you than you’ve already given. Closing the Death Scythe program was my decision, and I’m prepared to deal with the consequences on my own. But if you should choose to stay by my side...the next few centuries would be a lot easier on me. In more ways than one.”

“I’d do anything—“ Justin began, but Kid cut him off with a kiss. 

“Please don’t decide now,” he said softly. “Take a few years to consider, at the least. Think of everything you’d be leaving behind. Everyone you’ve ever known.”

“Except you,” said Justin. “I can wait to give you my decision if you wish, but it’s not going to change. I don’t really have anything to lose. I have no family. I managed to scare away anyone who I might have considered a friend while I was enrolled at the academy. And since then, I’ve never really stayed in one place long enough to form connections.”

“What about Tezca?” Kid asked, naming the only person, he realized, whom Justin had ever seemed close to. 

Justin smiled, but shook his head. “I don’t know the first thing about the guy. We enjoy each other’s company, sure. He likes to talk—a lot—and I like sitting with him and not having to even try to figure out what he’s saying. It’s nice. But you and your work are what matter most to me. And I am happy to give you whatever time I have left on this earth, whether it be ten years, or ten centuries.”

Justin was giving him the answer he had been hoping for, far sooner than he had been hoping for it. If Kid wanted to, he could reach out right now, alter the witch’s soul bound to Justin’s own just _slightly_. It would be child’s play for him. 

He laid a hand over Justin’s heart, felt its strong beat. “I just want you to think about it. I’ll ask again in a few years, presuming you can tolerate me that long.”

“Okay,” Justin agreed. He covered Kid’s hand with his own. “But I’m not going anywhere.” 

Kid’s bedroom door swung open and Patti stuck her head in. “Kiiiiiiid, I want pancaaaakes!” she announced. 

Kid scrambled back against the headboard and clutched the sheets to his chest, while Justin froze on the spot. They hadn’t told anyone about their relationship yet, not even the Thompson sisters. As soon as word got out, it was going to cause a stir, and they wanted to figure out how they were going to deal with being the topic of gossip for the entirety of Death City before it happened. 

“For death’s sake, Patti, knock first!” Kid yelled. 

“But I’m hungryyyyy,” she whined. Only then did she finally register Justin’s presence, but all she did was blink and say, “Oh, hi Justin. Will you make pancakes?”

“Um,” said Justin.

Kid took a deep breath. “I taught you how to make them yourself,” he said, forcibly calm. 

“But mine always turn out gloopy.”

“That’s because you aren’t patient with them while they cook.” 

Justin finally seemed to recover from his shock. “You know what? I don’t mind whipping up a batch of pancakes,” he said. “Just give me a couple minutes to get dressed, okay, Patti?”

“Okay!” she chimed, and disappeared from the doorway.

“Close the door!” Kid yelled after her. 

She stuck her head back in and blew a raspberry at him. “Lazybones,” she said, but she closed the door behind her as she left. 

After a few seconds of silence, Justin asked, “What are the chances she doesn’t tell her sister?”

Liz was the real problem. She lived and breathed Death City gossip. Kid frowned. “Not good. But you can never tell with Patti. Maybe she won’t think it’s worth mentioning.”

They weren’t so lucky. 

Just twenty minutes later over breakfast, Patti asked Kid, “Can I sleep in your bed sometimes? It looks so comfy, and its _huge_.”

“You can’t just ask people that, Patti,” Liz drawled around a mouth full of pancake.

Following Liz’s lead, Kid tried to play the question off like just another of Patti’s many strange and random inquiries. “If you don’t like your bed, we can get you another one. And you have the whole mansion at your disposal—you can pick any bedroom you like. But I need my own space.”

“Then how come Justin’s allowed to sleep there?”

Liz’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s a good question, Patti.” She looked between a very rigid Kid and a very red Justin and grinned. “Well, Kid?” she said.

Kid looked over at Justin, who gave a weak shrug. “Okay, fine,” he said. “Justin and I are dating. But please keep that information between the four of us for now. We’d rather not—“

“Too late!” Liz exclaimed delightedly, pulling her cellphone out from beneath the table. “I just texted Maka and Tsubaki.”

“How in Father’s name do you do that so fast?” snapped Kid. 

The phone buzzed, and Liz put up a finger. “Oh, hang on, Maka’s calling me. Congrats, you guys! And Justin, I’ve still got my eye on you.” She made a threatening ‘I’m watching you’ gesture, and then answered the phone with an eager, “Hey, Maka. Yeah, I know, I totally called it.” Her voice quickly faded as she left the room, leaving Kid, Justin and Patti looking around at each other, all equally lost.

“I don’t get why it’s such a big deal,” Patti said, finally.

“Thank you, Patti,” said Kid. Unfortunately, he doubted many people would share Patti’s blithe indifference. As Death City’s patron and guardian, the people tended to think of Kid’s business as their business, and everyone always seemed to have an opinion. But whatever the tune, Kid supposed he and Justin would just have to face the music as they had everything else of late: together.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap! Thanks for reading, guys!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you've enjoyed my writing, you can commission a story from me here: http://urban-sorcerer.tumblr.com/commissions


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